Acceptance of Courage
by misti4492
Summary: Sequel to To Trust Again but can be read without. Albion was thriving, a fact that left Merlin content and Arthur bored. Yet both were more than grateful for lasting peace. Of course, Camelot was not without its troubles. Not when a patrol, sent to a distant village, returned with a disturbing report. Someone had attacked them, or more specifically, someone was hunting sorcerers.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello everyone! Just putting a small note up here just to explain a few things about this fic**

**This takes place at an unspecified time after To Trust Again. However, you do not need to read Loyal 'Til the End (the first fic of the series) or Trust since this is a standalone story from the plot lines of those two fics. Only thing anyone who hasn't read those two needs to know is 1. Merlin is the Court Sorcerer and 2. Magic is now legalized.**

**There will only be mentions of the past fics, but nothing more.**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin<strong>

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><p>"Emmy, hurry up!"<p>

"Not yet."

"Emmy, we need to go!"

"Just wait a damn second!" the young sorceress snapped.

Leaves rustled, drawing her attention back. Branches pulled back, but revealed nothing. Flickers of movements were but ghosts. All that was left to do was push forward, and maybe she could pull him out, she had to get him out. He had to be there, he _had_ to—

An arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her from her frantic searching. Emmy shrieked out in anger, her nails digging into the exposed skin of her captor, but he merely grunted. Quickly, she turned her attention back at the bush, hoping beyond hope to catch a glimpse of the person she searched for, but her captor was quick to divert her attention back to him. His grip shifted to her arm as fingers clutched unknowingly hard on her chin; her head was twisted around until he was within her view. She could only glare, her nails digging hard, drawing blood.

"W-we need to go. He would've wanted us to keep going," the man winced, trying to shake off her claws without losing his hold.

"Don't talk of him as if he's already dead," Emmy snarled—more crimson oozed out—"I'm not leaving him behind, Simon. Not Ralf."

"I don't want to believe it either, but there's nothing we can do! Let's go, before it's too late," Simon pleaded, tugging insistently at the girl. It accomplished nothing but furrows across his forearms. Then a sharp pain erupted at his wrist, making him reflexively release his hold as the girl's eyes turned from gold back to brown. With no time to take a breath, she was gone.

The night seemed to descend upon her in a suffocating, sickening warmth. Once more facing the bushes, there was still no movement. She must press on.

Her hands slashed at the growth, twigs crackled and fell. What remained reached for the sorceress, scratching and pulling her, slowing her, telling her to turn back before it was too late. Their cries fell on deaf ears, so instead they shredded through her clothes and marred her skin. Bloody lines oozed, carving a nonsensical yet appalling design into her flesh. The ragged edges of fabric hung from her frame, drenched and dejected from blood, sweat, and tears. Still she pressed onwards. Behind her, Simon shouted for her, pleading for her to return. But that too was soon lost in the woods.

Her throat felt raw, her voice hoarse as she belted out for her companion. Running as blindly as she was, she didn't see the tree root until it caught her, wrapping around her toes with vicious intent. By pure instincts, she extended her arm, hand opened and fingers outstretched towards the fast approaching ground. The sound of cracking bones was not the only announcement Emmy needed to know about her poor choice of cushion. Pain was enough to strangle her shout into a whimpering cry.

Emmy squeezed her eyes shut, and she took a few seconds to compose herself as she rolled onto her back and cradled her injury. Haggard breath after haggard breath, she forced her mind to calm down before any attempts of movement. Standing was still a struggle, her feet protesting her attempts—she had forgotten she had lost her shoes when they first fled. The pain of her abused toes was easily overridden by the one of broken bones.

Trees loomed over her, dwarfing her in their size. Their silent vigil mocked her as she spun around, eyes looking between their presences for her own companions. It was then she realized she could no longer hear Simon. He was just behind her, wasn't he? Breathing spiked, heart thudded hard in her chest as panic began to further take over. She was alone, alone against them—against _it_. It took them, and she was next. Oh Goddesses, it was coming after her.

"S-Simon," she tried to call out, but her terror only allowed a strangled whisper. "Ralf?"

More leaves rustled accompanied by the patters of footsteps.

Again she tried, hope and dread clashing for dominance, "Simon, is that you? Ralf? Please stop playing games, this isn't funny!"

"No."

She jumped, spinning around were she saw a child. A small boy, no older than five summers, looked up at her from widened eyes, mouth downturned in a frown. Fear swam in those eyes, fear and pity. Soon, more children appeared, boys and girls alike of varying ages, surrounding the sorceress. They stared at her, equally as wide eyed. The young ones clutched desperately onto the older children, looking as if they wanted to turn away and hide. But all remained standing, and they stared at her, gazes unwavering.

Then, in unison, they took a step back. The group parted, creating a path down the middle to reveal a single figure that stood still, patiently. Emmy hadn't noticed its presence until then, the one that was different from all the rest, standing in the very back. They all smiled at it, the false happiness plastered insanely across their face.

Within the cover of the night, it was hard to recognize the imposing figure as the same creature she and her companions had attempted to escape from. Except for the eyes, those inhuman eyes. Not even the darkness could mask that penetrating gaze as it watched her. It step forward, its light footsteps accompanied by the hissing of fire as it crushed the grass beneath its feet. It walked with sure movements, each step calculated so as to not waste not a speck of energy. Though small, Emmy couldn't help but freeze at the malice from those mesmerizing orbs.

No it couldn't end this way.

Emmy slashed out her hand, calling onto her magic in a frantic attempt to bind the creature, main it, even kill it; whatever was necessary to keep the distance between them from diminishing. Yet those little steps continued. Step by step, the near silent sound of footsteps were the sounds of nightmares. One more spell, one more gasping breath until it was too late. It extended a limb, its skin feverish to the touch, grabbed onto Emmy's outstretched fingers. The little thing could only manage to wrap around two of the sorceress fingers.

Yet that grip was like steel.

Emmy stumbled to the ground. The unbelievable strength was enough to force her to her knees. Delicate fingers stroked the large hands, gaze loving yet ravenous. It tilted its head, its beastly eyes shining bright, too bright, at the sorceress.

Then it smiled.

Eyes widened.

Pupils shrunk into slits.

Emmy was on fire.

All strength drained from her. The sorceress couldn't talk, couldn't scream. She couldn't even breathe. She felt none of the rough ground that scraped against her writhing body nor the pain as her skull cracked against a stone. More bloodshed, more injuries to riddle her body, and all ignored in the agonizing sensation the creature brought upon her. It felt as if her entire existence was burning. She was burning.

Then it stopped, leaving her gasping and shaking.

"Oh, you are perfect," it purred, its voice sickly sweet as the creature began to circle Emmy. "Just like your friends. Oh you three will work wonderfully!"

"W-What are y-you going to d-do to me?" she asked between clenched teeth, ignoring the spasms of her muscles.

"Nothing you can prevent," it sang, "for tonight my flames shall feast!"

Then the thing released its victim, watching with glee as the sorceress began to crawl away with stiffened limbs. Denial could not protect her from the futility of her actions for Emmy knew she would not be able to flee a second time. Continuing to fight was a want only fueled by instincts. However, no matter how her instincts screamed, none of it matter in the true helplessness of the situation. The creature was soon hovering over her, the suppose innocence of the skin it wore made it all the more terrifying as it flipped her on her back and pressed firmly down on her forehead.

Blinding agony loosened the building scream from her lips. Even as she choked for air, her shrieks continued. It was too much, Emmy had reached her limits. When it stopped, her head lolled and her vision became framed by an ever increasing darkness. She was losing consciousness, lacking the will to continue in this waking nightmare.

"You have the loveliest voice!" Emmy heard it laughed in jubilation. "Perfect! I can't wait, oh, I can't wait, come on children, let's not waste another second!"

Several hands grabbed hold, the children she had all but forgotten. Their grubby paws clenched into the fabric of the miserable frock, wrapped around wrist, tugged at her feet, as together they dragged her through the forest. Emmy lacked the strength to do anything but allow her eyes to glance around, blurring further and further. The last she saw before the darkness claimed here was the creature, its sure steps leading the demented party.

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><p>"<strong>Forbearne!<strong>" Gilli incanted, grunting as he was immediately met with resistance.

"Focus, I know you can do it."

A drop of sweat glistened against the candlelight as it beaded from Gilli's forehead and slid down, leaving a wet trail on his flushed skin. Swiping the moisture with the back of his hand, he kept his other steady on his task. Magic swirled from his splayed fingertips, stretching out for his father's ring which sat by an unlit candle a few meters away.

Many sorcerers, especially those who served the royal house, were adept in the art of sorcery. Those who weren't were taught, eventually adding on to Camelot's magical force. Unfortunately for Gilli, it wasn't so simple to cast without the support of the rune-carved ring. Without it, his magic lacked to proper discipline and power to be woven into an incantation. It was for this reason the young man was so eager when Merlin had first approached him on improving. Though proud to be a knight of Camelot, Gilli's skill with the blade would not be nearly as satisfying as being skilled in sorcery. Much like his father.

Merlin stood next to him, tracking his progress with his own magic as Gilli tried to light the candle. The idea, the warlock explained, was to try casting magic a short distance away from his ring to hopefully exercise and strengthen his magic, much like developing muscles to strengthen one's body. While Gilli gained an advantage for being one of the few magically capable knights, Merlin was confident that not having a constant reliance of the ring would prove fruitful in the future. However, the difficulty to do so caused Gilli's motivation to waver. He couldn't help but wonder, was it worth the effort with the high risk of failure?

The delicate tendrils of magic went further, wavering across the gap. With one surge of strength, it touched the ring and flooded inside. Gilli let out a sigh as his arm sagged from the easing tension. Then he switched his attention to maintaining the ring as it did its job. The rune-carved band amplified the spell, building it up until there was enough for a successful cast. All it took was a small push to release.

The two sorcerers watched as the flame flickered to life. It wasn't close to impressive, far from the spectacular fireballs he had seen Merlin throw in battle. Gilli's shoulders slumped, he had hoped it would be bigger at least. In contrast to Gilli, however, Merlin lips turned up as a smile took over his face.

"I knew it!" the warlock exclaimed, excited as he approached the candle and swiped his fingers across the flame. "Can you imagine everyone's surprise when you start throwing fire without the ring? There is so much potential…"

The other sorcerer narrowed his eyes, not liking where he was going. After hours of practice and evening took over since they first started, it seemed this training was going to be a lot more strenuous than he previously thought, and he knew there was no limits for Merlin when the warlock got carried away.

"I barely lit the candle," Gilli huffed, "I doubt this will get any further than that."

"Don't think so little of yourself," Merlin shook his head as he waved his hand and extinguished the flame, "you have improved much and it wasn't as if you were free to train before coming to Camelot. The only one doubting your abilities is you, now try again."

He groaned, "How long do I have to do this."

"Until it's easy for you to light it, then we can try without the ring!"

Gilli groaned at the enthusiasm as Merlin walked back into position. His clear blue eyes kept watch as the sorcerer prepared to perform another spell when a knock resounded from t/he door. The warlock sighed, motioning for Gilli to wait while he opened the door with a simple gesture. Revealed was a servant who scurried to Merlin and gave him a quick bow.

"Milord, the king orders for your presence in th—"

"Tell him I'm busy," Merlin dismissed with a roll of his eyes.

"I'm afraid this is important, milord. He told me if you refuse, he will send knights to escort you."

"Okay, fine," he grumbled before turning back to Gilli, "keep practicing, I'll be back after seeing what the prat wants. And where can I find this Once and Future Prat?" Merlin asked, returning his attention to the servant.

"King Arthur?" the servant asked, brow furrowed in confusion and discomfort at the lack of respect. "He awaits in the Court Physician's chambers."

The warlock sighed, knowing his easy going day was over. It was never a good sign when Arthur threatened him with a knight escort and his location in Gaius' chambers were more than disconcerting.

After sending off the servant, he swept out of the room, leaving behind a disheartened sorcerer. Merlin marched through the halls, irritation marring his features, though it was only feigned annoyance. He knew that Arthur wouldn't threaten sending the knights without reason. Whatever happened required his urgency and attention, and Merlin could only hope it didn't mean disaster. Things had been too quiet as of late, even bandit attacks seemed to dwindle. It made Merlin nervous. It's never this peaceful for long.

Upon arrival to the room, Merlin was greeted with the organized chaos of his mentor's chambers. Among the usual array of drying herbs, bubbling potions, and a variety of paraphernalia, Merlin spotted familiar figures standing by one of the cots. It wasn't difficult identifying the royal family of Camelot as King Arthur stared at Queen Gwen with furrowed brows as the later stared down at the cot's occupant with her teeth worrying her bottom lip. As he stepped inside, they all turned to note his entrance with Arthur beckoning him to come closer. So Merlin crossed the room, noticing Gaius and his young assistant Alison tending to two more patients in adjacent bed at the opposite end of the room.

"Merlin, finally," Arthur drawled, though the sarcasm was halfhearted in light of the worry that showed bright from those blue eyes.

"Arthur, Gwen," Merlin nodded to the royals as he stood on the opposite side of the cot. When he looked down, his eyes narrowed in wary surprise. "And Sir Olwen."

The last time the warlock had seen this knight was when he, along with four others, were sent on patrol to the kingdom's outskirts. They were Camelot's response to investigating a group of sorcerers rumored to have attacked travelers in the area. By the man's condition, Merlin could only assume the worst of that expedition. He was in rough shape, that much was obvious, but still conscious. By the bandages wrapped tight around his chest and the winces of pain every time he tried to shift to a more comfortable position implied evidence to either bruised or broken ribs. Aside from his ribs, there was also another bandage that wrapped around his arm, from bicep to mid-forearm. His face was haggard, showing more than saying of the trial the knight had gone through to return to Camelot.

"And the others, who's returned?" Merlin asked, glancing towards the physician and assistant were they kept busy. He couldn't see beyond the two to identify the occupants, however he could guess. Why else would Arthur want him here if not to discuss with him the serious implication such an attack would carry.

Sir Olwen hesitated, glancing for approval from the king before answering. His voice rasped out, with exhaustion dripping from every syllable he struggled to say, "Sir Madoc and Sir Vortigem were the only one who came back with me."

What of the rest, Peter and Griselda. Where are they?"

"I-I don't know, I—" the knight continued, trying and failing to keep his emotions in check as terror and panic began to take over.

"Peace Olwen, you're safe here. Just take a deep breath," Merlin soothed, whipping out his hand to summon a chair on which he sat upon. Now on the same level with the knight, the warlock continued in a soft tone, "If you so chose, you can make your report later. I can even kick out the prat if it'll make yoru feel more comfortable."

His lips twitched, revealing a glimpse to the familiar jovial knight the warlock knew Olwen to be. That reaction alone was what steadied Arthur hand from smacking his ex-servant as he waited for the knight's response.

Releasing one haggard breath as he gave a curt nod, Sir Olwen began again, "We managed to find their trail, it wasn't difficult. So we followed it until it took us to a village, a small one mind you, and asked around. Nothing unusual happened and we ended up in the tavern were a few men directed us to a nearby forest. They said three strangers went that away, but we shouldn't bother. So we got a room at the inn and waited until morn before heading out.

"It was when we were leaving, that the villagers saw Peter do magic. We had initially agreed to keep it a secret to avoid unnecessary problems, but Peter forgot himself and used it to toss back a ball some children were kicking in the streets. They acted… weird, more cautious around us. We left quickly for the forest soon after, I didn't want trouble with the villagers.

"There weren't much there, only what you'll expect from a forest. Griselda was getting ready to cast some kind of spell, something to find those damn sorcerers, when we got attacked."

Olwen stopped, brows furrowed as he looked down at his hands. When he chose not to say more, Merlin prodded, "Attacked? How? By who?"

Olwen shook his head, "I honestly don't remember, only flashes. All I know is that by the time I was aware of my surroundings, the other knights were unconscious and injured beside me and the sorcerers were nowhere to be found."

"But is there nothing else you remember, nothing that could show what we are dealing with?"

"No. The only thing I remember is hearing Peter and Griselda scream and th-the—"Olwen shuddered and gasped, trying to steady his quivering body"—the smell of burning flesh."

"Consider your report complete," Arthur said as he placed a firm hand on the knight's shoulder, "all that's left for you is to take it easy."

"That's good Sire," Gaius intruded as he gestured for them to get out of the way, "because now he needs rest."

Arthur nodded, already turning away to make his leave with Gwen as he said, "You are excused from your duties until you've fully recovered, all of you."

"Thank you, sire," the knight murmured with a nod.

Merlin lagged behind, sharing one last lingering glance with Gaius. From the quick silent conversation he shared with his mentor, Merlin knew they shared the same trepidation. However, there was nothing more the warlock could do for these men that Gaius and Alison couldn't already do. No, there was something else for him to do that was more of need of his talent.

It didn't take long for Merlin to catch up the king and queen, for the two waited for him right outside the door. None of them had to say a word as they continued away from the door.

"So what do you think, Merlin?" Arthur asked after a few seconds.

"I think," the warlock slowly began, still distracted by his own musings, "that I need to pack."

Arthur eyebrows rose as Gwen asked in a none too surprised voice, "You're leaving?"

"Of course," Merlin nodded, "Peter and Griselda are my responsibility, and if there's a chance, I'll rather they not die. Whatever happened to them, I can assume was caused by those sorcerers, or worse, the same sorcerers fell victim to the same thing. Either way, anyone who can take out those two so easily as well as several knights is worth looking into.

"Then I'm going too," the king stated.

"Really, Arthur," the ex-servant said as he rolled his eyes. "Don't you have a kingdom to rule? I can handle this fine on my own."

"Because this kingdom has been in constant danger as of late, _Mer_lin."

"Are you asking for trouble?" Merlin shook his head as he scoffed, "Not something you would want, especially what trouble _normally_ entails around here. I've had enough of that to last a lifetime!"

Arthur shrugged, "It's something to do aside from listening to the constant complaints from the locals. Besides something about this worries me…"

Gwen murmured, "I don't like not knowing what happened to the other two. It sounds as if someone targeted only the sorcerers."

"I agree," the warlock nodded. "Otherwise I doubt those knights would've been able to return."

"But if those sorcerers were responsible, there has to be a reason why they allowed the knights to get away. Yet they didn't even said any king of message," the king added.

Merlin smirked, raising his eyebrows as he teased, "Something intelligent coming out of your mouth? Don't hurt yourself there, sire."

Gwen giggled as Arthur's face skewed into annoyance. "Shut up, _Mer_lin. "

The warlock laughed before sobering, "Arthur you don't need to go. I can handle this fine, I'm sure it isn't even that big of a problem."

"Then it'll be fine. As I said, it would be a break from the monotony of this place. It's either this or a hunt," Arthur shrugged. "I rather go myself and make sure an idiot like you don't trip over himself and get in trouble. We'll leave tomorrow."

"As you wish, prat," Merlin said as he rolled his eyes again before he stopped and gave the king an exaggerated bow. Then he straightened up, turned on his heels. He needed to head back to his own chambers to pack. As he walked away, Merlin said over his shoulders, "I suppose we should take a few sorcerers with us as well as knights."

"Do you believe it wise to bring other sorcerers?" Gwen mused.

"Probably not," Merlin stopped to look at Gwen, "but what else can we do? If we need to combat against magic, we need magic. I can take care of it, but I want to make sure we are well prepared."

"Then who do you think should go?"

Merlin shrugged, "Perhaps Aubrey, since he's strong, or Gilli."

"Gilli would be a good choice as a fighter, he's skilled at the blade," Arthur said, "but his sorcery isn't strong. You may be putting him in a vulnerable position."

"He's stronger than you think," Merlin waved away the concerns as he continued to make his way out.

Arthur nodded, watching as the warlock slipped around a corner and out of sight before continuing his way back to the royal chambers. Beside him, Gwen glanced at him, noting the emotions that warred to make an appearance on her husband's face.

"You're worried," Gwen said, as blunt as ever.

"How can you tell?" Arthur chuckled.

"Because I am too," the queen answered. "If someone is hunting sorcerers, then what's to say they can't do the same to Merlin? I know he's powerful, but I don't like that he's making light of this situation. We have little information of who this is, and while I don't doubt Merlin's abilities, we cannot ignore the potential of a powerful enemy."

"That's why I'm going," the king said, "and a few others. There's no such thing as too many people when it comes to keeping an idiot alive."

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><p><strong>AN: And here we start again! Another story, another adventure. As far as I can tell this one is going to be rather short compared to its predecessors. Currently have 6 chapters written with the 6th being the second to last. It may be a bit longer than that, but not by much. Also, since I have most of this story written, I'm back to weekly updates. This is the reason why it has taken so long for me to post. I can concentrate almost entirely on editing rather than writing and editing (as I done in the past). Basically consistently updating that would <em>actually<em> fit my schedule. There may be a day late updates here and there since I'm still very much busy, but nothing to the extent with what happened with Trust. I will be updating as I finish editing.  
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**For anyone who wants an update on Rebirth, that will take me quite a while to get back into. As I mention in several other places, when my last laptop broke, I lost files for that story. This doesn't mean I'm giving up on it, it just means it'll remain on hiatus until I can delve back into that story.  
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**So next update will be on Tuesday, September 17th. Let me know what you guys think. This idea has been brewing for awhile now and I'm really excited how it turns out.**

**Until next time!**

**And, as always, reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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><p>The thudding sound of hooves was a familiar and calming sound, one that Arthur missed after days stuck on the throne. It would be unimaginable to shirk his duties as king for managing Camelot's daily affairs and juggling through the foreign ones could not be left to the whims of the court. Neither would it be fair to Gwen to leave her at their mercy, though Arthur doubt the court's ability to bully the headstrong woman. She was firm as well as kind.<p>

Still, it was maddening having to spend his days trapped in the castle, especially in light of his youth. Gone were the days when he could jump on a horse and have a wild adventure without serious repercussions. The occasional hunts weren't enough to stave off the boredom and it would not do to allow his Court Sorcerer—one who would happily laze around the castle for eternity if allowed—to go on his adventure. No, Merlin shouldn't be allowed to romp around the kingdom when Arthur couldn't. Besides, was it not an unofficial duty of Arthur to make Merlin as miserable as he could? That and ensure the idiot came out relatively unscathed.

"So, if we're looking for someone hunting sorcerers," Leon began, drawing everyone's attention, "then is it wise to bring you two along?"

"Definitely mate. Don't you know? No one can mess with the awesome powers of his clumsiness," Gwaine snickered before a barrage of leaves blew up and shot at his face. Flailing did little good when the knight lost balance and fell with a shout, or he would have if an unseen force hadn't prevented it.

"And you say I'm the clumsy one?" Merlin chortled as the gold faded from his eyes. Beside him, Gilli snickered while Leon and Percival watched on with grins.

Arthur rolled his eyes at the antics as he added, "I hope you two don't treat this as a joke. It's hard to imagine one of our patrol being so easily overpowered without seeing the assailant."

"Yeah, but come on Princess, Sir Olwen isn't exactly the best of knights," Gwaine smirked, "not like us."

"But Griselda wasn't a sorceress to be trifle with" Gilli said with furrowed brows, "or Peter for that matter."

"No, they weren't," the warlock agreed, "which is why I'm going to investigate this personally. The average sorcerer isn't capable of an attack of this magnitude. With something that powerful, it won't be a matter of a stronger swordsman, but a stronger sorcerer. Begs the question on the necessity of your presence, _sire_."

"Sorcery's not the only thing out there that can kill you," Arthur drawled, "and it would be embarrassing when the great Emrys died tripping over a branch."

Laughter reverberated throughout the group, adding to the cheerful atmosphere as they continued their journey. The village, Assirith as Olwen had later told them, was rather remote. At a leisurely pace, it would take three days at most. On horseback, it wasn't long before the group spotted the quiet village on their second.

The trail they followed broaden until it was more a dirt road rather than a simple path. Winding towards the sprawling village, it was lined with a multitude of furrowed fields, each one riddled with local farmers. Though it was not as heavily populated as the busy city at the heart of Camelot, it was still sizable for a village. The larger buildings lined the main road while smaller roads and buildings branched away.

Catching the warlock attention was the forest beyond. It loomed over the village with its grand trees; silent sentinels that seemed to hold an air of ancient wisdom as they towered over the humans of the land. Even in the Valley of the Fallen Kings, where the tree seemed soaked in sorcery, couldn't compare to these old giants. Yet a certain darkness hung over them, one that Merlin failed to fully grasp or understand.

Entering the village, it was apparent they were outsiders. The rough clothing of the populace clashed greatly with the obvious finery that the group wore. Just having their horses showed their wealth as few hooved steeds were spotted among them. It was a surprise for none that the people stared at them as they passed by, eyes full of a strange emotion Merlin couldn't pin down. They were quick to return about their business, but the warlock still noted how a few kept their distance.

"I don't like it here," Merlin murmured, making sure he wasn't overheard by the locals as he pulled his horse beside the king's. "Something's missing."

"You think so?" Arthur asked, glancing to the side at Merlin.

Merlin simply nodded, choosing to not add more as he looked around. He couldn't quite place his trepidation nor the missing factor, but it seemed the forest's shadow spread beyond its boundaries to hang over the people of Assirith. The day was pleasant, not cold but not scorching, with the sky clear of storm clouds. Yet the people here displayed none of the laughter nor friendliness Merlin often associated with small villages. The missing element was the cheer?

"The children," Merlin gasped to himself, too quiet for anyone to hear but loud enough to catch Arthur's attention. However Merlin offered more information to his outburst, still lost in thought.

Even the smallest of village never lacked the simple sound of childhood. Merlin could still remember the peals of laughter as the children gave chase across the small village of Ealdor. Few, but still there. Here in a village much larger than the warlock's birthplace, there was not a single child in sight; only wary adults.

It was… unsettling.

"Ah, here we are!" Gwaine squealed as he grinned at one of the nearby buildings, unaware that he prevented the king from questioning the warlock. To no one's surprise, it was an inn, a place carrying the promises of liquid courage and a warm bed for a certain knight.

The inn itself appeared to be ordinary establishments that stood two stories high. Great oak doors marked the entrance as above it hung a wooden sign with the name branded across the surface. _The Captivating Furnace_, it read. Beneath the words was a painting of a brick furnace with a strange creature made of fire dancing in its hearth. None of the details could be made out from the strange figure aside from it being vaguely humanoid. It was interesting sign, but the warlock gave it little more than a look before he was following the others inside.

Much like any alcohol serving business, there was little activity beneath the sun's gaze. The main serving room was empty, and the bar near so. A single man, old and dressed in ragged clothing sat, at the end cradling a mug of ale. There wasn't much talk between the sole customer and the barkeeper, the latter of which choosing to focus on cleaning his counters. Had it not been for a glare and a steadying hand, Gwaine would have already been bouncing to the nearest stool to quench a thirst. Instead, he stood back as a woman got up from the other end of the room, dropping a rag back into the bucket at her feet. As she approached the group, wiping her hand dry on her apron, a small girl followed her at her heels with a ragged doll clutched in her grip.

"Welcome," she smiled, glancing at their attire before giving them a quick courtesy, "I'm Brie, how may I be of service, sirs?"

"No need for formalities, miss. The Princess already has a big enough ego," Gwaine laughed, receiving another glare from Arthur despite the snickering around him.

Before the knight could add onto the poor woman's confusion, Merlin intervened, "Two rooms will be fine."

She nodded before ducking behind the bar, leaving the young girl to scamper for one of the stools. Climbing atop the chair, her little legs dangled from the height as she clutched her doll closer to her bodice. Ignoring the irritated look of the barkeep, she rested her head on the counter and began to doze off. Walking past the barrels of ales and the cluttered shelves of glass bottles, Brie reached for a board of hooks. Keys hung from every single one, making the warlock suspect they were the inn's only customer.

"Do you often get travelers through here?" Arthur asked, noticing the keys as well.

"Not often, a few groups here and there," she shrugged. "Though we've been getting more people pass through recently than ever before, right Erwan?"

"Ay, and neither of them had much luck ignoring our warnings."

"Warnings?" Leon asked.

"The forest in these parts are dangerous," the barkeep grumbled, before staring at the old man at the end of the counter, "among other things."

At those words, the man looked up from his drink, giving the others his attention for the first time. His skin was thin with pockmarks and dark spots decorating his face. He had scraggly, long hair colored by different shades of browns and greys and a long, hooked nose and thin, dry lips. What got their attention the most was the dark bruise that colored the skin around his right eye and the cut that slash down the middle of his lower lips. The way in which he shifted in his seat also implied more injuries hidden beneath the ragged clothing that hung loose off his skinny frame. The glare in those brown eyes spoke a different story than his frail body.

"Don't worry," Merlin said, distracted by the old man as he pushed from the bar and limped for the door, grumbling. "We can handle ourselves fine. But if you don't mind, can you tell us more about these other people?"

"Who, our last guests? There were two groups of them, not that long ago since they've left," Brie said. "The second lot were chasing after the first three to arrive. Messy business, but as long as them sorcerers don't drag us into their problems, I don't care what they do."

"Sorcerers?" Gilli asked. "Why worry if they're capable of magic?"

"I suppose, but some folks around here don't care much for sorcery."

"The old man I assume?" Merlin asked.

She nodded, "His name's Jarron and his family has a history of hatred. He was in… disagreement with the recent change of heart on sorcery. That's the reason we try to ensure that people with sorcery are not known to him. We fear for the last ones, neither of those groups were seen after they went into the woods."

"You believe he attacks them? That's interesting since I find people blinded by misconception to be powerless against magic. You say that two groups come in, with sorcerers, yet an old, prejudice man can harm both?" Merlin shook his head, "I find it hard to believe."

"I know naught in the ways of sorcery, how would you believe the man does it?" Erwan asked as he tossed aside his rag and folded his arms on the counter.

"I know enough on sorcery to understand that it would be difficult to fend against multiple sorcerers on your own without magic on hand," the warlock added as he extended his hand. His eyes flashed as the rag flew from the counter to his hand, to which he settled back in front of the man.

The innkeepers looked to each other, before returning their gazes to observe the warlock. However, that wasn't what caught Merlin's attention. Instead, he couldn't help but notice the once sleeping girl flinch, her eyes widening to a near impossible size as she stared at the ex-servant. In her eyes, he saw fear, something he assumed wouldn't be a common response to magic in a village at peace with sorcery.

"Thank you for the warning," Arthur interrupted before anyone could make a comment. "And thank you for the rooms, but its best that we be off."

* * *

><p>"Do you believe it wise to tell them you are a sorcerer?" Arthur grumbled as they walked back into the inn.<p>

With all their saddlebags unpacked and stored in their rooms, the horses in the small stable behind the building, and a quick fairly unappealing meal curtesy of Brie, the men had wasted no time to disperse themselves in the village, splitting up in three separate groups. Though the village was small, it took until the sun started setting for them to fully search the place. If the others success were anything like Arthur and Merlin's, there wasn't much to go on.

The warlock shrugged, "I got what I needed to know."

"And what is that exactly."

"That there is something odd with this village."

The king laughed, though it was without humor, "This place is as unremarkable as villages can get. Not even a bandit attack in who knows how long. I wouldn't have believed this place to be a danger if it wasn't for the missing people."

"So you believe that the old man is the cause of five missing sorcerers? Did we even see the same person? With a drunkard like that, I doubt his capability."

"It looked like he was in a fight recently," Arthur pointed out, "it could be he attacked someone who managed to fight back."

This time it was Merlin's turn to laugh, "You're kidding? When have you ever heard of a sorcerer fighting with fists when their life is in danger?"

"Who knows how it happened, the fact remains that it's the only lead we have."

"No it's not," the warlock grumbled before grabbing the king's arm and spinning him around.

"Hey—"

"Just look," the warlock grumbled as he forced him back a bit to stare out on the path they were traveling. "What is it that you see?"

"I don't know, village life?" Arthur drawl with sarcasm oozing with each syllable.

"That's the thing, Arthur, have you actually seen villagers act like this?" Again the warlock gestured around them. "There is no laughter, no cheer here. The stalls trade their wares, there's people purchasing from the general store, the butchers, or whatever suit their fancy. It's all done, but no one communicates outside of that, no greeting, no conversations, nothing. When was the last time you've been in a village devoid of any emotions? There aren't even children about."

"Maybe things are different here," Arthur shrugged.

"Yes, and that's what's wrong! Whatever shadow hangs over here, I bet it's connected to what we're looking for."

"I doubt it," Arthur said as he started walking again as the warlock fell in step with him.

"Doubt all you want, but you have to admit that they're hiding something. Every question we asked they either avoided or were defensive. I suspect the best person to try questioning next would be that old man, Jarron."

"You shouldn't be there for that, let the knights talk to him."

"Why? What can he do to me?"

"Not sure, be he's the only one suspicious enough."

"Not the only one," Merlin grumbled, to which Arthur ignore as they reached the tavern.

In stark contrast to the day, the darkening sky brought the crowd. The tavern was full of villagers looking for a night off. Dice were tossed and drinks were poured as the low rumbling of conversations filled the room. Some people sat alone, nursing their mugs at the bar, as each table was filled with different groups. Further into the room, the two spotted the others, already seated and served.

As they pulled up chairs of their own, Arthur started, "Any news?"

"Nope," Gwaine said as he slammed down his mug. "We talked to everyone and not a single clue on what's going on, right Percival."

The large knight nodded his assent as Leon reported, "I found nothing either, sire."

Gilli shrugged, "And I sensed nothing."

"Anyone have more information on Jarron?" Merlin asked.

"The same stuff we heard from the innkeepers this morning," Gwaine said. "Except he apparently lives alone on a plot of land between here and the forest."

"Then that leaves us with two options: talk to this Jarron and search the forest," the warlock said as he gave Arthur a smug look.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Arthur muttered, "Fine, we talk to him. You, Gilli, Gwaine, and Percival can investigate the forest. I can go talk to Jarron with Leon."

"No, I'll go too."

"Merlin, if he's the one responsible then—"

"Then what do you expect to happen, you with your swords against a man who can assault sorcerers without problems? Besides, you'll need one of us"—he gestured to himself and Gilli—"against any sorcery."

"I'm sure we can handle it just fine."

"I'm sure you can," the warlock said, sarcastic, "in the mean time I'll go put wards on the rooms to make sure nothing breaks in at night to kill me."

With that the warlock shoved away from the table, maneuvering around the tables for the stairs. Before he was about to climb, someone grabbed onto his arm to hold him back. Not surprising, he was met with the concerned eyes of the king. With a roll of his eyes, Merlin instead stepped aside from the stairs to give the king his full attention.

"You're upset."

"Wow, Arthur whatever gave you that idea?"

"What's going on with you? What happened back there," Arthur snapped, gesturing to the table.

"Well answer me this. When a village is being attack by bandits, do you tell your men to leave them to their fate?"

"No, what does this—"

"Then why are you protecting me?"

"I'm not protecting, just making sure you don't needlessly endanger yourself or Gilli for that matter. We are investigating someone who hunts sorcerers, is it not best we allow those of us without magic to handle this."

"Not if the means in which sorcerers are attack are beyond a knight skills," Merlin said, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "I'm not known as Emrys without reason."

"Yes, but it isn't unreasonable to make certain precautions."

"Then it's a good thing I don't listen to your orders."

With that Merlin walked away, leaving Arthur to glower at him in frustration before returning to the table of knights. As the king sat down again, Gwaine was quick to shove a tankard in his face. The warlock watched as Arthur pushed the drink away, wanting to continue the conversation her left.

Merlin wanted to yell at the king, to do something about the odd overprotected attitude he had since adopted. It seemed that, between the reveal of his magic and now, Arthur hadn't been able to see him beyond the defenseless servant. Granted, Merlin hadn't made the best of choices in the past, but he had since proved his abilities. Arthur should know better than to believe as silly of a notion as needing to protect the warlock. It was maddening.

Then again it was a minor annoyance at best. Though based on that truth, his irritation was exaggerated to be the perfect excuse to get away. The king should know better than believe Merlin was only going to give up so easily, especially when he disagreed with the ill thought out plan. And by the looks of the tavern, Jarron being the attacker was looking to be the least likely. Again, the oddness of the villagers did not escape him, even in the seemingly jovial atmosphere. While people sat about, drinking and gambling, the falsity of their cheer still remained. Smiles looked forced and whatever laughter heard sounded awkward, especially compared to those from Camelot who relaxed from the day's worries. These people were playing an act, like a grand spectacle for an audience of none… or for them.

As he searched the room one more time, already deciding on sneaking out to visit the old man, Merlin spotted the little girl from earlier. Brie's daughter, he assumed, had sat herself on the stool again, her small hand holding a piece of charcoal as she scribbled onto a piece of parchment. Seated beside her was a boy, one who couldn't be any older than fifteen summers. The boy watched the younger draw, his black locks of hair long enough to cast a shadow over his eyes. They were the only two children Merlin had seen since entering the village, enough to warrant some questions. Then there was the fact that the girl was frightened of him and his magic. Whether he found out why or eased those fears, at least he was going to be productive.

Reaching her, he needn't speak to get her attention as she looked up at the warlock with wide brown eyes. She held none of the fear she showed earlier, watching him with an almost calculating look before returning back to her work with a new fervor. The boy beside her gave him an uneasy look, offering nothing but uncertainty.

"What are you drawing?" Merlin asked gently, smiling a greeting at the boy before looking over the girl's work.

On the center of the parchment was a square, a rough sketch of a house by the looks of the windows and doors inscribed on its sides. To the left was more squares of different shape and sizes, and to the right were trees. A face peeped out of one of the windows, line drawn over his eyes at a downward angle, giving the little stick figure a permanent scowl as he stared out of his home. The girl was starting to draw more between the house and trees when suddenly someone cleared their throat next to him.

"Cute isn't she," Brie smiled from behind the bar as she knelt against the counter in front her daughter. "Unfortunate that she doesn't talk much."

"Why is that?" Merlin asked.

"She hates to," the boy muttered beneath his breath.

"Oh hush, Silas, she just shy. Shame really since she has the loveliest voice, right my darling Lillian?" Brie cooed as she reached out a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind the girl's ears.

There was a strange strain to her tone, but Merlin had no time to wonder as the little girl, Lillian, shoved the parchment in his hand. She had folded it small enough to easily fit in the palm of his hand. Patting the paper, she gave him a curt nod before she returned to her charcoal and began drawing anew. By the time he returned his attention to Brie, the woman was already swept away by her work.

"She likes you," Silas added with a smile as Merlin murmured his gratitude and pocketed the drawing. The girl continued on with her next work, not indicating whether she heard the two beside her.

"Brie said your name was Silas, right?" Merlin asked now that the boy was talking. "What's a kid like you doing in a tavern at this time?"

"Parents over there," Silas nodded to the couple as they worked beside Brie and Erwan, "the innkeepers are like family to us, my father and mother often come when things get a bit busy."

"Why don't you go out with others your age? I can't imagine it being fun to spend your time here."

Silas shrugged though there seemed to be a new tension in his voice, "Not much more fun with the others. I'll rather sit here and watch other Lillian than run amuck outside."

"Can't be that bad," Merlin quirked his brows.

"I suppose," the boy mumbled with clear dismissal in his tone as he turned away to watch the girl draw.

Merlin made to prod the boy with more questions but decided against it. He doubt he would get any more information out of him. Instead he rose from his seat, making his way for the exit while keeping an eye on his companions. Whispering a quick spell, Merlin felt his magic envelop him in an unseen shroud. A simple incantation, but one that would divert the ever watchful gaze of his king. Already he could see Arthur turn back to the table, a small furrow indicating his confusion. At the sight of Merlin, the king would be led to believe that the warlock had decided to retire early for the night. As long as Merlin returned before anyone realized he wasn't in one of the rooms, no one would know better. Good, because Arthur wouldn't really kill him if the king found out what the warlock planned.

The night was cool and the stars hung above his head as he walked the empty streets towards the outskirts. Somehow he found the village more disturbing at night where silence reign. Occasionally he thought he heard something, footsteps or perhaps whispers, but he found nothing amiss when he searched for the source. It left him more on edge. Surrounding the streets stood the buildings giving no relief to the darkness. Each one seemed to be devoid of life, dark and quiet in sharp contrast to the lively inn. It made Merlin wonder if the people of Assirith were hiding. It had not been long since the sunset, but they were all quick to leave the streets.

Following the road, he reached the edge of the village and was greeted by the expanse of land beyond. The path continued, narrowing again as it wove its way over the small hills and towards the forest. According to Gwaine, Merlin would have to keep following this road to reach Jarron's home, somewhere between the village and forest.

That bit of information soon proved to be true when the warlock reached another path. The dirt path branched off the side of the road, turning right towards a small house. Around it was a garden growing all kinds of fruits and vegetables while behind it he could spot a small barn. The house itself appeared to be run down, one of the windows cracked while the thatching of the roof was missing in spots. The simple wooden door looked battered and worn as it stood warped in its frame.

Glancing around, it wasn't hard to note how close the forest was to the house. Its looming trees appeared far closer than it was. The branches swayed to the slight breeze and a few birds fluttered out. However, what made Merlin uncomfortable was the feeling of someone watching. Whether due to the missing people, the darkness of night, or imposing nature of the trees, the warlock couldn't shake the feeling of eyes tracking his every move.

Then that feeling was washed away, gone as he took his first step off the road onto the path. Merlin let out a small gasp, allowing the sensation to brush over his being as he stretched out his magic to investigate. Someone had placed a ward over this land, one that seemed to stretch out and encompass the entire area surrounding the building. Though it was there to fend off an intruder, it did nothing to harm him. In fact, its protection was the first time Merlin felt at ease since arriving to Assirith. The enchantment was powerful and old, saturated into the very land with what felt to be layers upon layers of protection. The potential of power was great, great enough to overcome sorcerers, but none of it proved to Merlin it was malevolent. Then there was one other revelation. Could it be that the villagers were lying about the hermit they claimed to despise magic?

He supposed there was only one way to find out. Merlin just hoped his assumptions were correct, because there was still the potential of Jarron being their attacker. And if the man possessed magic of this magnitude to protect his home, Merlin may not be able to stop him unscathed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hello! Going to keep this short cause I'm ill and ready to pass out for a bit xD<br>**

**Next update will be set for Wednesday, September 24th. I have an exam on the 25th so this chapter might be posted a day early or a day late depending on how much of chapter 3 I can get edited this weekend and how much time I can spare from studying.**

**Thank you everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed! Hope you enjoy this quick fic!**

**As always, reviews and constructive criticisms are greatly appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

><p>Fist raised before the door, hesitant, before dropping to rap against the surface. Met with silence, Merlin waited a moment debating on when to try once more when the quiet was disrupted. With a soft click, the door cracked open to real a pair of irritated brown eyes, eyeing the warlock across with distrust.<p>

"Jorran?" Merlin asked, probing out his magic for any traps or ambushes.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" the old man growled, his voice rasping out as his scowl deepened.

"If you will it, a moment of your time to ask a few questions."

"And why should I?"

"Because good people under my responsibility have gone missing here," the warlock responded, choosing to answer with blunt honesty. If his hunch was correct, he had nothing to fear with this man.

"Give up on them, they're already dead. And if you know what's best for you, boy, you'll do well to leave this place. Assirith offers nothing but evil and death," he grumbled, leaning back to close the door.

But the door would not move, even as the old man threw his entire weight against the unyielding surface. It was only when he looked up and saw the glowing of the warlock's eyes that he realized why. His glare turned murderous, making Merlin second guess his hunch on the man's true stance on sorcery, if only for a moment.

"Leave."

"Not until I get my answers."

Jorran regarded him for a moment before grumbling, "Fine, come in if you must, but should you fall victim like your friends, the fault is your own."

"Why? Do you plan to do to me like you did to them?" the warlock asked as he followed the old man inside, shutting the door behind him.

"You wouldn't be here if that's a concerning question."

Inside was short, dark hallways that led passed several rooms. Glimpsing into them revealed a certain emptiness. Reaching the end, the hall opened into a sitting room of sorts, with only the dim light of candles for company as the fireplace was left cold in disuse. Unlike the previous rooms, books, scrolls, and loose scraps of parchment formed a mountainous landscape that populated this one. An assortment of odd knickknacks were scattered amongst the piles, a few used as paper weights for parchments or decorated the many overflowing shelves that left no walls uncovered. Jorran led him through it all until they reached a cleared section were a few chairs sat. Gesturing for the warlock to take a seat on one of the empty chairs, the elderly man grabbed different one, which he set across the warlock.

"Now, I'm letting you in here cause I figure you ain't going to leave me alone, but let me put this in a way that'll help you understand. Leave. This. Place."

"Why."

"Because sorcerers like you'll only worsen matters."

"But I'm not like most sorcerers."

"Is that so," Jarron chuckled, leaning back. "How I see it, most you all share the same arrogance."

"It is not arrogant when it's a statement of fact," Merlin replied, not dissuaded by the man's flippant attitude. "And as far as I can tell, you are the most honest one I've met here, to which I'll extend in kind. My name's Merlin, but most people in Camelot know me as Emrys."

The old man stared at him, blinking once, twice. Then he stood up and paced the room, running his hand through his hair repeatedly as he mumbled to himself. Merlin strained to hear his words, but the soft spoken words were too low to understand. Before the warlock could try to stop him the elder halted his pacing to go straight to one of the bookshelves nearby. There he tore into it, tossing one book after another until he found the one he sought.

Staring down on its cover, his fingers stroking the surface, he whispered, "Even if I had not known the news these past few years of King Arthur and his Court Sorcerer, I know the legends well enough. Please, is there no way I can convince you to leave?"

"It is my duty to protect the people of Albion, especially those within Camelot's boundaries."

Jarron clutched the book close to his chest, his thumb rubbing its spine before sighing. Nodding at his answer, the old man walked back to the warlock and dropped the book in his lap. Puzzled, Merlin picked up the book and glanced at the runes imprinted on the cover. Age was apparent as well as the serious magic that preserved the tome, yet the contents lacked the importance such protection implied. It was a simple book of stories, fables to scare and teach the children by an evening fire. He made to open it and but was interrupted by the old man.

"I'm bound into silence," Jorran mumbled, dropping heavily back onto his seat as he clasped his hand into his hair, gripping as if his head ached. "That's the best I can do."

"What stays your tongue?"

"Sorcery to protect this land from evil, for none outside my family were to know of its existence. I failed them," he rasped. "If the great Emrys can't stop it, no one can."

The warlock watched him, the man bruised and pale as his frail body began to shake from a flood of emotions. When he made to ask more questions, Jorran shook his head. With nothing to say, no allowance to offer comfort, Merlin spoke a few words of thanks. Then he made his leave, careful not to knock over the nearby piles. He had just reached the door when suddenly claw like fingers grabbed onto his arm, spinning him around to reveal feverous eyes.

"Please, Emrys, have mercy on the children, don't blame them for her—_its_ sins. None of it's their fault," he begged, tugging the warlock's arm to place ring in his palm. "I've managed to attach part of my wards to it with what little magic I can manage. It'll protect you for short while, as long as you're not directly attacked. Use it as you see fit."

Then he shoved Merlin out the door with a surprising amount of strength, making him stumble to maintain his balance as the door slammed close behind. A shiver ran down his spine caused by something much more sinister than the cool evening air. Shaking the fear from his mind, Merlin knew it was time to return; he had gathered what information her could. With the book in hand, he set out down the path and back to the road, already preparing for the reprimand he was bound to get should Arthur discover he was gone.

_Wait_, Merlin thought, glancing back at the house in realization, c_hildren?_

Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out the folded scrap of parchment, Lillian's drawing. Unfolding it, the warlock held it up before him, allowing him to make out what she had intended him to understand. The picture depicted Jorran's home, with the village and forest on either side. Yet there was a new addition to the drawing, one that he had not seen her draw when distracted by his conversation with Brie and Silas

In the space in front of the forest stood a line of figures. Each one were at various heights, but none seemed as tall as Jorran's figure in the house. Their genders were noted based on hair lengths; some had no hair, other had long hair. Etched onto all of their faces were crooked smiles and a line of dots that marked down each of their cheeks, travelling from two slightly bigger dots to represent eyes. It took Merlin a second to recognize them as tears. Further away from the forest laid more stick figures, five in a pile; all with blacken, featureless faces with two only having the defining feature of hair.

Five bodies.

_The second lot were chasing after the first three to arrive._

Griselda and Peter were the only ones missing from the patrol. By Brie's account, they were chasing a group of three sorcerers. Five sorcerers, represented by five stick figures, all piled before the small figures. A lack of children, the somber village. Five bodies. Yet there was more.

Another figure, hunched over on the ground right next to the pile. Male by the lack of hair and half his face blackened. The other half looked agonized by the wide-open mouth, pinpoint eye, and trail of tears. Merlin could almost imagine the screams that figure would produce. A sixth figure, to represent another victim perhaps? What purpose would a child have for giving him this dra—

Another chill went down his spine, bringing about a new sense of dread to the pit of his stomach. Out on the road, before the dominating presence of the forest, he felt exposed. Whipping his head towards those ominous trees, paranoia struck Merlin as he spotted something watching.

The drawing was a warning.

It was a warning for the thing that lived in those trees for on that piece of parchment he spotted one last damning detail. A pair of eyes with slit-like pupils that watched, not the children nor the old man, but the sixth figure. Sketched behind that man, it watched the stick figure's suffering, its sixth victim much like the glowing pair of eyes watched him from the trees that very instant.

Eerie orbs was all he could see of it, the unnatural light revealing its presence as the brambles and trees kept its body out of sight. Had Arthur been there, he would have laughed it off as some random woodland creature, but the king couldn't feel it. He didn't have magic that screamed at him to leave before the murderous power those eyes held. It made him feel insignificant. So he did the only rational thing his mind could produce.

He turned and ran.

And still he felt its penetrating gaze boring into his back as he prayed to the gods it didn't give chase.

* * *

><p>"You should pay attention."<p>

Arthur stopped, interrupted mid-laughter. The warmth of alcohol and the comradery he shared in had lulled him into a relaxed and comfortable state. It had been awhile since the last time he participated in such a setting; the wild atmosphere of a tavern differ greatly from his life in Camelot. What he wasn't expecting was the boy with unruly black hair standing right behind him.

As Arthur shook his head with a chuckle, still amused by his fellow knights' conversation, he turned to the boy, "What's that you said?"

"Pay attention to that sorcerer of yours," the boy continued, his tone sounding bored. His posture bespoke of a laid back attitude, but those piercing brown eyes showed a contrasting tension.

"Merlin can take care of himself," the king said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"Just because he wields magic, doesn't make him safe. If I were you, I would go find him and get the hell out of her—"

"Silas!" one of the woman scolded as she walked by with hands full of mugs.

The boy merely rolled his eyes and turned away, returning to sit by Brie's daughter at the bar.

"I apologize, my son usually has better manners than that," she said as she set a new round about the table.

"No harm done," he mumbled, bothered by the boys words.

"Hey, Princess, tell ol' Leon here about that time I had to fight back a bunch of drunkards with a spoon while balancing a gian—where are you going?"

"Checking on Merlin, I don't want him alone and moping," Arthur said as he stood up from the table.

"Aww, how sweet of you," Gwaine cooed as he wiggled his fingers at the king. "He cares so much."

"And you say Merlin's the girl," Gilli snickered.

"I don't blame you, sire," Leon mused. "Merlin's not known for staying out of trouble."

"Exactly, glad that someone here has sense."

"And the concern is nothing to do with it," Percival added.

"Not you too," Arthur groaned as he walked away, ignoring the laughter behind him. None had noticed what the boy told him. Perhaps the children had a fear of magic? That would explain the kid's words and Brie's daughter's reaction to the warlock's magic.

And joke as the knights want, Arthur would feel better once he check on Merlin and make sure he was fine. Maybe he was restricting his friend a little too much, but the man needed to understand there was no harm in precaution. They should identify who was responsible and plan based on their strength and weaknesses, not run in head first and expect the best. Upstairs and stood before the door to the room, all Arthur asked for was that warlock would be reasonable. Apparently that was too much to ask seeing as Merlin was nowhere in sight in the room. In half the time it took to get upstairs, Arthur was back at the table with irritation clear in his eyes.

"Merlin's gone," Arthur growled at the questioning looks.

"Where'd he go?" Percival asked, brows furrowed.

"Through that door," Gwaine drawled as he pointed to the entrance. They all turned to watch as the warlock stepped inside, slamming the door behind him before leaning against it. "Would you stop with all the fuss, Princess? When's the next time we're going to be able to relax like this."

"This isn't supposed to be a break," sighed Leon, meeting Percival's eyes in exasperation.

Arthur ignored them, marching straight for Merlin as the warlock tried to sneak past. The closer he got, the more he realized something seemed off about him. He was a shade paler than normal with his eyes distant as he unconsciously walked towards the steps. When Arthur grabbed him, tugging his arms to get his attention, it seemed to startle Merlin back to reality.

"Damn," Merlin muttered as he grinned at his king. "You're a lot more observant than you used to be."

"Don't be flippant with me," Arthur snapped, irritation hiding the concern. "Where the hell were you?"

"Jorran's, and let's not talk here," Merlin replied, giving Arthur a sobering look, "I don't want an audience of unwanted ears."

"You found out something?"

"Maybe."

Arthur nodded, "Then let's go upstairs."

The king gestured for the warlock to go on to one of the rooms while he returned to the table to grab the knights' attentions. After a bit of coaxing, the king finally got Gwaine to stop drinking and follow the group upstairs where they found the warlock. Among the few cots was a single writing desk where Merlin sat at, leaning back on the wooden chair as his eyes gleamed from the candle light. A small furrow marked his brow as he stared down at a few objects on the desk; a book, a ring, and a piece of parchment.

"Glad to see you haven't died on us after that rather poorly thought out plan," Arthur grumbled as he approached the desk, "What have you got there?"

"Not as poorly thought as you might believe," Merlin murmured as he handed the king the parchment.

After scanning it, he handed it off to the nearest knights as he asked, "What is _that_."

"A warning," the warlock whispered, leaning forward to rest his elbows and weaving his fingers together. "Brie's daughter gave that to me. If I were to guess, those five figures are our missing sorcerers and the sixth is supposed to be me."

"You weren't the only one to get a warning. I was told we should leave by that Silas child earlier," Arthur added. "But this implies a death threat. What kind of children make those kinds of threats?"

"I don't know, but I believe these strange children and the lack of is connected with our mysterious attacker. Jorran said as much."

Arthur's eyes narrowed, "Do you even understand what an order is?"

"Of course, I'm not an idiot, I just chose to ignore them. Now do you want to continue beating this dead horse or do you want to know what I found out."

"Fine," the king muttered, folding his arms across his chest as he glared down at his Court Sorcerer.

"First, Jorran isn't who we're looking for, he gave me this—"he gestured at the book and ring"—to help me stop whatever it is."

"A book of fairy tales?" Leon asked as he reached for the book and thumbed through the pages.

"Or more than that," Gilli murmured as he motion Leon to go back to a few pages. "This book has spells in it. Look here, there's one in this story."

"There's something stranger to it," Merlin added, glancing at Gilli. "Do you see why?"

Gilli read and reread the quick piece of dialogue before his brow furrowed in confusion, "This isn't a spell, only a word from the Old Tongue."

Merlin nodded as Percival asked, "Why?"

"It can be for many reasons. Preventing children from learning dangerous spells or—"

"How about hiding information," Gwaine added.

"Then I have a lot of work to do then," Merlin mused.

"Anything else to report from your little venture?" Arthur asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

The warlock shrugged, "Jorran gave me this ring for protection, but I don't know much more than that. Aside from that, nothing else."

"You sure about that?"

Merlin nodded as he placed the objects back on the desk and stared at them.

"Then why were you scared."

"Huh, what?" the warlock asked, startled out of his momentary thoughts.

Arthur knew better than most about the masks his once servant wore. Before, he was easily fooled by them, believing there was nothing more to Merlin than the clumsy, stupidly loyal servant. Now, it wasn't so simple and while Merlin was a master of deflecting and hiding his emotions, Arthur could still see the tension in his shoulders, each measured breath, and every care he took to keep his emotions in check. And the king didn't forget how he looked when he first entered the inn.

"Hey, there's something you're not telling us there mate?" Gwaine asked.

"I thought you were done lying to me," the king grumbled.

"Omission isn't lying."

"It may as well be, and you know full well I don't accept anything but the truth."

"Fine," Merlin sighed as he sat back and gave the king an even look. "I didn't want to say, because I don't know much, but I saw it."

"It?"

The warlock nodded, "Whatever is causing all this, I saw it in the forest."

"Who is it—what is it?"

"I don't know, but I doubt it was human. I only saw its eyes but I—"the warlock paused, narrowing his eyes "—I don't know if even I'm capable of stopping it."

Arthur regarded Merlin for a moment before tentatively asking, "Do we need to leave?"

"No. If we leave now, what's to say this would stay an isolated event? Besides, I'm not for abandoning these people."

With a curt nod, Arthur said, "Then you better get to work. If I know you as well as I do, you are far more capable of stopping this. We'll do one more sweep through the village tomorrow while you research. Whatever we information we find is what determines how we will search the forest. Until then, no one steps a foot in there, am I clear?"

He waited for everyone to agree, whether by nodding or verbally, then said, "Good. It's time to turn in the night, we have a long time tomorrow."

Gwaine was the first to leave, and by the gleam of his eyes, to go back downstairs and drink more. Leon and Percival followed right after. However, before Gilli left, Merlin called out, "Gilli."

"Yes?" the sorcerer asked as he stopped by the door and turned to the warlock.

"Does anyone else here aside from us knows you're a sorcerer?"

"Not that I know of," he shook his head. "I haven't found a need to use magic since I've been here and it's never been brought up."

"Good. Don't use magic or let anyone know of it until I state otherwise. It seems they are yet aware of you. There's no need for more unnecessary risks."

"Yes, sir," Gilli nodded then left, leaving the king and warlock on their own.

Gathering all of it from the desk, Merlin stored the book and parchment in his bags and pocketed the ring. Everything in place, he threw himself onto on of the cot and lot out a sigh. As he went about the room, Arthur too pull of his chainmail and sword, setting them aside.

"This missing turned out more dangerous than you expected," the king murmured, dropping onto one of the beds as he rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands together.

With hands behind his head, Merlin only gave him a curt nod, "I've never felt so powerless. Had I known, I doubt I would've allowed Gilli here."

"We've survived worse."

"I suppose."

"_You've_ survived worse. This situation is nothing compared to what we've already gone through."

"Yeah," Merlin mumbled, allowing his magic to reach out and snuff out the flames. As he descended the room in darkness, he felt his friend's words soothe his once panicked heart. "Thank you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Gotta love my luck lately. Ill last week and food poisoning this week. I'm just not going to win! Oh well. With today's downpour here and finishing my exams for the week, I finally managed to get this chapter edited. A pretty short one today too, sorry about that and being a day late. I was trying to post on Wednesday, buuuut food poisoning didn't make editing possible ,<strong>

**Anyways, back too full health and ready to churn out another chapter as soon as I can. Expect the next update next Friday, October 3rd, 2014.**

**Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated!  
><strong>

**Edit 10/12/2014: Okay, I know, it's been two weeks since I was supposed to update :/  
><strong>

**Really sorry about this guys, but I may not be able to update until October 27th. I'm slammed with exams from all my classes, I have my GREs coming up way too soon, working 30+hours a week, and I've been in an out of meetings for my Thesis work. I will try to get chapter 4 out as soon as possible, but unfortunately my schedule isn't allowing for it to happen , Once everything has calmed down again, I'll try to chug out these chapters fast as I can.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

* * *

><p>"What purposes serves knowing where I get them herbs," the woman asked as her hands worked furiously at grinding those dried plants into powder.<p>

"Well, if you collect in the forest, we would like to know if you've seen anything unusual or strange," Arthur replied as Leon and Percival stood back and watched.

It hadn't taken long for them to set out that morning to search. After a simple breakfast, Arthur and the knights left Merlin to study the book as they split off to different directions. While Gwaine and Gilli went in one direction, Arthur had gone the other along with Leon and Percival. After a few questions, they eventually found themselves at the local healer's home in an attempt to find someone familiar to the forest. Who better to know those woods but the person who needed its resources for their craft?

The woman, Magge, lived in a small home. Unlike Gaius' chambers, she was well kept and organized. No object was out of place and no brew left unintended in her neat home. Only one cot was available to patients, though it was unoccupied, and in the back corner was a closed door. They could only assume it led to more rooms that served her home rather than her job. As she worked with her pestle and mortar, another a girl of thirteen stood by, ready at attention for orders.

"Oh, I don't know that. That there's Holly's job," Magge said, gesturing for the girl next to her to retrieve her something from across the room. "Right Holly, sweetie?"

"Mother doesn't like the trees anymore so I go," Holly said, as she went as directed, brushing past Leon to grab a jar containing more powder. She gave them a nervous smile, oddly averting her eyes from the nearest knight as she returned to her mother.

Leon swayed for a moment, confusing marking his face as his hand twitched towards his head. However, it remained unnoticed as Percival asked, "Anymore? What happened?"

"Nothing, too old, that's all. Now if you'll excuse me, I am rather busy," Magge said as gestured them towards.

"Of course, ma'am, thank you for your time," Arthur nodded as he left, the knights giving their own thanks as they followed close behind.

It had been a long day and one much like the previous. They managed to get nothing out of the villagers and seemed even more guarded the second time around. There was but one difference between their previous attempts, and that was the presence of children. While they were all but gone before, they were everywhere now. They sat on stoops or clung close to the adults as they went about their day skirting around the village. While the adults weren't so willing under questioning, they were far more cheerful. Small talk, greetings, even the occasional laughter was exchanged, revealing Assirith as more sociable than previously believed.

"It's as if I'm see a whole different village today," Arthur sighed as he glanced around, watching as Percival walked away to approach a group of children talking on the side of the road.

"Agreed, though I wonder what's changed," Leon said.

"A certain idiot making a risky venture perhaps? Figures he would tip _something_ off."

"I suppose it's hard to break such habits, sire."

Arthur snorted, "What? Habitual lack of self-preservation? Or how about blatantly ignoring orders?"

"Or maybe going off on his own to protect the people he cares for."

"Well he needs to learn to stop doing that."

"And we need to stop seeing him as a simple servant," the older knight mused.

Arthur glance to him, giving him a questioning look, "I don't treat him as a servant."

"No you don't," Leon nodded, "but haven't you noticed you've been keeping him back somewhat."

They stood by in silence, Arthur choosing to brood than to respond to the knight's, as childish as that was. There was an unmistakable air of denial around the king. Arm crossed as he glared out. Further away they watched as Percival and laughed with the nearby children, his great stature stooped down into a kneel to be at eye level with the young ones.

"I didn't mean to offend, Sire. I say it with my utmost respect, but Merlin wasn't against working with us nor did he wish to do so in secret. Is it not without reason that Merlin's presence is necessary when we find the culprit?"

"How about the reasonable concern that this person, or group, can so easily capture sorcerers without anyone seeing?"

"Yes, but he also made a good point that if we're dealing with sorcery, he will be the best man for the job. Or is a Court Sorcerer meant to stay in the castle and advise?"

"That is what advisors do."

"Merlin is more than a simple advisor." When he was met with silence, the knight sighed, "The point remains, Sire, is that you are protecting him when there is no reason to."

"Aren't I letting him do his job now with that book?"

"Yes, but he's not in what you assume to be in harm's way, safely tucked away in the inn. We don't even know what is safe and what is not, though this places feels entirely harmless."

"Harmless," Arthur snorted. "There's something going on here."

Leon smiled, "Is there? This feels more like vacation than anything."

"Agreed, Sire," Percival interrupted as he returned, grinning as the children followed him like ducklings to their mother.

"Oh wow, you're a king!" one of the girls giggled with another as she pointed out Arthur. "I can't believe it, can you, Will?"

"I guess," the boy, Will, responded, watching the three with disinterest, "if you think he's a _real_ king."

"He is, see! He has a sword," another boy chimed in, pointing at Arthur's glittering blade.

"Oh, let me see that, I can tell if it's a king's sword," Will rolled his eyes, managing to grab the hilt of Arthur's sword with a speed that caught the king off guard.

"Hey," Arthur shouted, irritated as he grabbed the boy by the wrist. "This is not some toy for you to play with."

"But you are," the boy mumbled, his cheery tone dropping in an instant, "we all are to her."

"What?" Arthur asked, caught off guard by the sudden change. Beside him the knights laughed and smiled with the other children, blinded of the dread that crashed onto the king. Before he could attempt to shout for the knights' attention, alert them of the sudden threat that boy's tone brought, Arthur felt a dull heat radiate from Will's skinny wrist, startling him into letting go.

"Wha—" he gasped again, clutching at his head at the sudden onslaught of vertigo. From the corner of his eyes he saw a red glow brighten from the boy's other palm. The odd light pulsated along with a sharp pain that struck his head, once, twice, before both dulled and disappeared.

"Sir King, are you okay?" the littlest girl asked with wide eyes.

"Y-yeah," he stuttered, dropping his grip on his head in favor of massaging his temples, "just dizzy. I—what's going on?"

"You said you'll go play knights and bandits with us!" the first boy yelped, jumping up and down with wide, pleading eyes.

Arthur scowled, "I don't play knight."

"But Sir Knight said you would."

"I did not," Percival laughed, "I said you can ask him if you want."

"Then as punishment, you will be my prisoner!" Will squealed as he brandished his stick at Percival.

Arthur felt a smile form as he stood by with Leon and watched as Percival played along with their little game, children scampering and squealing before the large knight. They continued their game of make believe, dueling one another with their sticks, laughing at each other when one of their 'swords' snapped.

"Why did we even come here?" Arthur laughed. "This place is as peaceful as a village can get."

* * *

><p>Merlin was ready to toss the book aside.<p>

Not because the book was infuriatingly cryptic. In fact, he had made great strides in solving its secrets. While it contained a little more than a dozen tales, only one contained words from the Old Tongue. Whoever had created this book trusted its innocence to disinterest readers with a variety of mundane stories. He managed to recover the first spell, a sizable one he hadn't bothered trying to interpret for there was still at least another buried in the text. From his quick skim through it, however, it seemed to be a counter-spell suited for restraining certain enchantments, though which he was yet to determine.

His progress would have been quick, with eyes darting back and forth in their sockets as he picked out the words of enchantment that his hand scribbled onto piece of parchment, had it not been for a certain curious girl. Lillian's presence in the room hadn't bothered him as she peppered him with questions on his adventures. She was a good distraction that slowed him somewhat but kept him from dozing from the dull tome. However, it wasn't long before her curiosity ended her line of questioning with a request of magic. Brown eye gleamed with excitement as she tugged at his arm to pull him out of the room. As much as he wished to amuse the child, Merlin knew he still must finish his task. With an apologetic smile, he had gently told her later, once the book's secrets were laid bare.

With glum, downturned eyes, she left the warlock to his work. Merlin was going to miss her chatter but knew it was time to dive back into his work. Or he would have had it not been for one more little distraction appearing soon after the girl's departure.

It started with a dull thrumming of pain starting from the base of his skull before radiating outward. Merlin tried to ignore it as his eyes began the next paragraph, eyebrow furrowing as he tried to focus past the throbbing. However, what bit of concentration he managed was lost as the pain intensified into an agonizing pounding that knocked his vision into a blur. It was when he was reading the same paragraph for the tenth time that he was ready to quit.

Pushing the book away, Merlin brought the parchment closer to attempt at understanding the first spell's purpose, determined to get something done. Still, the pain hampered all his attempts. His thoughts felt muddled, jumbled into disarray as the agony continued to grow.

With a groan, Merlin swiped the parchment and slipped it onto the open book, closing it together before pushing it aside. Instead, he reached for Jorran's ring, looking at it from different angles as he allowed his thoughts to muse.

What was he even doing? Reading cautionary tales for some silly attempt to stop some nonexistent villain? As far as he was concerned, the village had nothing to hide. Merlin hadn't realized he could so easily be affected by paranoia, but he supposed he must have been as stir crazy as Arthur when presented with the chance. In the end, once Arthur and the knights returned from their questioning, he would present the king with finding bandits. What other explanation was there but bandits? It was always bandits if not one of the many plots to usurp and kill the ruling family in Camelot.

More pain knifed through his skull, causing Merlin to release another groan as pocketed the ring and stood. Squinting at the source of light, he waved his hand towards the candle, snuffing its flame for daring to strain his eyes when he was in pain. With two quick strides, he fell into the bed, face down as he waited for it to subside, or better, go away. Maybe he should just wait there. There was no hurry in solving the book, not that nonsense, and he should try to recover before Arthur came stomping back in. Just ignore pain and maybe he can even sleep…

Knocking, urgent and sudden, brought out a glare.

So much for sleeping.

* * *

><p>"Why the Princess is having us scour the entire village is beyond me," Gwaine grumbled as he and Gilli walked down the road with the inn coming to sight. Above them the sun was just started to disappear below the horizon and the sky was quick to darken.<p>

"It does seem pointless in hindsight," Gilli mused.

"Lucky Mer—"the knight began to groan when he was suddenly interrupted by the slamming of doors and a few shouts.

The two looked to the inn in surprise as they spotted two figures run out. The first was the boy, Silas, fear and one other emotion flickering across his face as Merlin followed him. By the determination set in the warlock's face, it was all the two knights needed to know something was wrong. When he noticed them, Merlin grabbed onto the boy, bringing him to a stop to wait for the knights to reach them.

"What's going on?" Gwaine asked, watching the solemn dread on his friend's face.

"Missing children," Merlin said, nodding his head back towards the tavern.

Showing up right at the threshold stood two women. One was hysterical, her wispy black hair a tangled mess as her tear stained eyes stared, pleading, from within the comforting arms of Brie. She stood frozen, clutching a ragged handkerchief in her hands as Brie gently pushed her aside and approached the men. Her eyes were bright, unshed tear held back by sheer stubbornness.

"_Please_," she whispered, "my daughter, my Lillian. She's missing, along with Ella's son, Liam."

"Do you know where they've run off two?" Gwaine asked.

"The forest," Ella muttered from the doorway before she stumbled towards them. "They love to play in the forest, but it's night, it's too dangerous and they coul— _find them_!" she gasped, crumpling to the ground as her cries wracked through her body. Brie stooped by the woman, wrapping her in her arms as she tried to comfort her.

"It's okay, it's okay," Merlin placated as he too joined their side. "We will find them."

"And I will help you," Silas added with a nod. "I've gone into the woods before and I know where they usually love to play. We'll make sure they return home safe."

"Then lead the way," the warlock said before turning to the knight, "you to stay here and wait for Arthur. You can explain to him what happened so he doesn't think it necessary to be more of a prat later."

"Like hell, you only need one to pass a message," Gwaine growled.

"Fine, but let's not waste any more time," the warlock sighed as he gestured Silas to lead the way. "We'll be back Gilli."

"Bastard," the younger knight grumbled after the knight, "now I'll have to deal with him."

Gwaine chuckled to himself, pretending to not have heard as he set out with the others. They weren't running, but close to as they cut quickly through the village, Silas at the head of the group as Gwaine lagged at the back.

An itch at the back of Merlin's mind bothered him, alerting to him to something. Ever since he was dragged out of his room, the sheer wrongness of the situation shrieked at him. He couldn't even begin to understand, but knew he would ignore it until after the children were found and brought safely home. The he could worry about whatever his instincts warned him about. Besides, he had grown fond of Lillian.

They had long left the village behind, passing the path that led to Jorran's home in favor for the road that curved for the forest. Again that itch alerted Merlin, more forceful than before as he glanced towards the quiet home. The harder he thought on it, the further away it felt, like trying to grasp a fistful of sand. Thoughts like granules of sand slipped past his fingers, unable to stay long enough for him to figure out. When he tried to push even more, his thoughts were disrupted when Silas suddenly stopped.

They had reached the forest edge.

The trees loomed above them, far taller than they all realized, standing tall with age and wisdom that rivalled even the forest that surrounded the Valley of the Fallen Kings. The boy stared out, his face neutral except his eyes. Those eyes were wide and wary, as if waiting for some monster to com bounding out from the dark depths. Merlin could only assume superstition was the source of his fear. As Merlin was about to grab the boy's attention, when Gwaine gave a startled exclamation as he pointed his fingers towards a spot to their left.

There they spotted a small figure cloaked in shadows. It was small, only slightly taller than Brie's missing daughter. After a second, it giggled and turned away into the trees, crossing into a beam of moonlight long enough to see a mop of short, curly hair.

"Silas, stay here.," Merlin muttered, sharing a look with Gwaine.

"But you need me to navigate in there for you," Silas responded, startled out of silence as he looked to the warlock.

"I'm assuming that Liam, if we leave now we can follow and catch him."

"But—"

"Just stay," Merlin said firmly as he began to run for the forest edge with Gwaine following close behind.

He hadn't known why he asked the boy to stay behind, for the warlock knew it would be easier than tracking the child. But his instincts were screaming at him, screaming that something was wrong. For some reason he felt inclined to ignore those instincts.

Weaving between the trees, the child managed to stay just ahead of them. His small body and speed kept him well ahead of the two men, and calling out his name did little to slow him down. The longer they spent chasing him, the more Merlin began to doubt leaving behind the older boy. Paranoia here was contagious and Merlin had allowed it to second guess himself. Perhaps he should use magic to direct Silas to them to help. Ahead of them, however, Liam continued to run and disappeared past several bushes.

Merlin swatted the branches out of his way, maneuvering his body around the bushes to step into the open space. Cleared of trees, Merlin and Gwaine beheld a path that ran through and deeper into the forest. Barren of life, the dirt path was ashen and black with a familiar aroma that wafted from memories that bore no happiness. It took mere seconds to recognize what memories it dredged up from the deepest recesses of Merlin's mind. The familiarity came not from a campfire or fireplace, nor from the simplicity of a candle's flame. No, it was the stench of a burnt corpse. The nauseating smell was difficult to forget, not when it seemingly dominated day to day life during Uther's reign.

"Merlin, are you okay?"

The warlock shook his head, though to answer the question or make an attempt to clear his sense, he didn't know. The suddenness of those memories was more than shocking, for the adrenaline sent through his body had cleared the fog of irrationality from his thoughts.

"I'm… fine," Merlin finally mumbled, trying to clear his mind. What was he thinking? They were vulnerable out here, with whatever was hunting… "Let's keep going, before we lose his trail."

"I wonder what caused this," the knight commented as he kicked the ash from the ground with a wrinkled nose. "You don't think that all this is from—"

"I hope not, but I rather not think of it." He would take note of this path. By its grim qualities and the way the stench saturated the dirt, it would lead them to their attacker. Merlin didn't know if he wanted to ever to find them.

His head throbbed, harsher than ever. When had he had this headache? Had he had it before or after they had gone in search of these children?

Pain did not occur for no reason. It served to warn of an attack and this pain was the result of such an attack. It was from a force that combated against his own magic. It growled and snarled inside him, a match to his powerful magic. And it was his magic that had kept screaming at him, trying to tell him to turn back or at least be aware of the manipulation his mind had fallen for. It only needed a little help against the onslaught, help in the form of the warmth that had grown uncomfortable from his pocket.

Merlin dropped his hand into his pocket, feeling the ring that rested in there. The magic in the ring was fighting back, and had been fighting back from the beginning. While the noxious fumes was enough to knock some sense into him, it was the power of the ring that had cloaked him in its protection that kept him in awareness. After a few seconds and a push with his own magic, Merlin fought off the rest of its effects and his head had finally cleared.

As their trek continued without interruption, Merlin glanced at his companion. Gwaine's eyes had a glazed looked to them, and the lack of concern for where there were served to convince the warlock's suspicions. Whatever had affected and tricked him into the forest had done the same to Gwaine. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if it had done it to all of them from the moment they stepped foot into Assirith, leaving them unconcerned and vulnerable.

The children disappearance was all part of its plan, that much Merlin was sure. The children had always been part of it. Children were apt to get into all sorts of trouble, high energy and imaginative as they were. Add their general innocence and they were perfect for the whims of whatever cruel creature dwelled in these woods.

One thing was sure, the threat of the forest didn't diminish, but in fact grew as they walked deeper inside. Something lurked in the shadows, and the warlock could practically feel its hungry eyes follow his every move. He was considering an attempt to convince Gwaine to turn back, leave before the worst possibility happened, but his mouth remained shut and his feet continued forward. Saving the children was still a priority. Even if this may be a ploy, Merlin couldn't afford to be wrong. Not on their safety.

"There they are!" Gwaine grinned as he pointed ahead of them.

With the trees standing tall around them, they spotted the children. The boy, Liam, was on his back, arm stretched out around him as he panted from exertion. This game of chase took more out of the boy than they realized for even when he spotted them he didn't move; instead he closed his eyes. By him sat two little girls, Lillian and another younger girl. She had fiery red hair, unkempt and wild, framing a pale lithe face. Her eyes were slanted, muddy browns and she was dressed in a simple brown frock. With slim fingers, she worked with deft precision as she braided Lillian's hair. The strange girl hummed a tuneless song, occasionally giggling, her laughter reminding the warlock of the twinkling of bells.

"Little guys had us worried for nothing," the knight mused as he made to step forward to reach them

"Wait," Merlin said, his arm shot up as his hand pressed Gwaine back. There was something wrong, something that set off all kinds of alarms. Even his magic felt uneasy. With his mind clear, he knew better than ignore his magic and it didn't take long to realize what had concerned him. "Weren't there only two children missing?"

"That's what they said," Gwaine nodded, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Maybe they're mistaken?"

"About their own children?"

"Then maybe this one had snuck off before anyone realized."

"No something's weird here," the warlock mumbled as he walked forward, his steps slow as he calculated the best way to approach the three children.

They appeared normal to the warlock. Nothing in their appearances or mannerisms proved threatening. How could it? They were but children playing among the trees. Yet the warlock could feel his pulse quicken, his magic rise up, defensive and ready to take on any threats. He was in the presence of a predator.

The third child.

Illogical as it was, it was that red-haired child that his instincts screamed _predator_.

"Gwaine, grab Liam, I'll get Lillian." The boy was the furthest away from the red-head, safer for Gwaine.

Eyeing the smallest child, the knight nodded, that glazed look fading away as the knight's battle grown instincts sensed the threat. Then the two stepped forward, cautiously as two sets of eyes kept track of the seemingly harmless girl. Gwaine strayed to the left, towards the boy, who was now eyeing them with wide eyes. Lillian remained still, her eyes closed but her body tense as she heard the crunching sound of boots crushing the foliage. Still, the pale child continued her work.

"Tricksters dance, bathe in glory," the girl began, her humming cut off by her lilting voice.

The knight glanced at the warlock, reflecting the same unease Merlin felt.

"Fire's trance, prey on mortals."

Her open mouth curled up, teeth flashing in a sickly sweet smile as her fingers continued uninterrupted.

"Skip too soon, a quarry's flight."

Gwaine reached the boy, lifting Liam up into his arms. The boy didn't resist, grubby hands latching on to the knight's tunic. Gwaine was quick to back away, wanting to help the warlock but knowing he must keep the boy from danger. If he left quickly enough…

"A magic morsel, to its plight," the girl crooned, finishing up the braid with a satisfied grin.

Merlin had reached them, instincts, magic, his entire being screaming for him to leave, run far away. He ignored them, reaching for Lillian, slow and careful as he watched the redhead lean away from her work. Smile stretched wide, she watched the warlock grab hold of the innkeeper's daughter, pulling her on her feet to be pushed behind him. Lillian squeaked, stumbling backwards and further away from her supposed playmate. She didn't stray far, however, choosing to clutch Merlin's pants leg.

"Hi," she chirped, getting up on her feet. Her hand brushed down the skirt of her frock, swiping away the nonexistent dirt before bending low into a curtesy. "Come to save me from my awful plight, mister?"

"Who are you?"

"Such a big meanie."

"Who. Are. You?" Merlin asked again, emphasizing every word. The way she fidgeted, smiled, the very childlike mannerism were all an act. A farce that served to disarm him. Her act would have been perfect too, had it not been for the predatory gleam in her eyes.

"You're not like the others," she whispered with a cocking of her head and narrowing of her eyes. "You broke out, entirely on your own."

Then she straighten up to her full height, her childish mannerism dropped in favor for a quiet confidence. Ever so slightly, her eyes brightened from the mud brown, becoming lighter until it shined with molten gold, though there was no apparent use of magic.

"What's a girl doing here? Come child, let me take you home? Why are you doing this, oh gods, why? What have you done to him, no, NO RALPH! _Please,_ let her ago, let Ellie go," she mocked, her voice parodying from deep to high tenors of a multitude of people, progressively becoming more hysterical as she continued.

Merlin shivered, recognizing the fond nickname they had given Griselda.

"So it's you. You're the reason they're gone, what have you done to them?"

"Nothing you won't soon be familiar with," she trilled. "Now you, _you_ are a curious thing aren't you? Who are you to possess such delicious powers?" She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply from her nose with a blissful face, almost as if she was smelling freshly baked bread.

Behind him, Lillian tugged at his pants leg, whimpering as she tried to make him step back. Further behind, Gwaine stood fidgeting, wondering if he could convince the boy to run home so he could help his friend but decided to wait. Such actions may worsen matters.

"You are more than you appear and have yet to answer my question: Who are you?"

"Oh my, well isn't this wonderful," she gasped, taking a step back as her eyes widened in amazement and she clasped her hands together. "Who would've thought those insect's words would be seen to fruition. I heard many stories of you, oh this is just too grand! For one as mighty as _the_ Emrys, I will grant you this favor. I'm known by many names, but humans favor Lameka the most."

Merlin's brow furrowed, thinking back of all the books he read, "I never heard of you."

"No, you wouldn't," she mused, spinning at her heels as she paced away before twirling back to give him a smirk. "Me and this land, it has been quite some time. It's a good thing I out at the right time, right Emrys?"

The tugging continued, Lillian being even more insistent, her slight figure trembling. Being gentle, the warlock pried her hand from him before pushing her back.

"Lillian, go to Gwaine," he commanded to which the girl shook her head furious.

"Go on, my child," Lameka said, her gold eyes turning to Lillian.

The brunette took two shaky steps, shaking her head furiously before turning and running to the knight. With her out of the way, Merlin began to draw on his magic, an incantation on his lips. He lifted his hand, fingers splayed as was common with spell casting. A monster wearing the skin of a child was still a monster, and while he didn't particularly care to attack a child, he knew there was little choice. Lameka confirmed there was no innocence, it would be foolish to hesitate due to appearances. Especially since she was responsible for his sorcerers' deaths. There was little doubt they were dead.

"**Forbærne!**" he shouted after some hesitation, unable to associate the child before him with the monster she was. At the command of his spell, a fireball erupted from his palm before being launched straight for the small child.

Then it stopped, hovering inches from the girl's face as she watched in amusement. The fire's light danced in those molten gold eyes as her hair seemed to come alive from the flame's power. Then she opened her mouth, a popping sound accompanied the action as it widened far wider than that little jaw was capable. It didn't burn her. Not even as the flames licked at the skin of her face, trying to burn the delicate skin of her lips. The angry fire fruitlessly fought against her, trying not to be consumed. When she had completely suck it in, the depth of her throat glowing, she closed her mouth with a gulp.

"You really are pure magic aren't you?" Lameka moaned, as her pupils contracted into slits and the gold brightened. Her eyes drooped as she watched them with a satisfied smile and her tongue flickered across her lips. "Simply scrumptious."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the long wait. Can't believe I still underestimated my ability to keep up with stuff. This fic is short though, with only three more chapters left (round about). I'll try to update faster, just so this fic gets finished.<strong>

**Estimated update: November 11th. Going to try to post in two weeks, but if I can I'll post as soon as I can.  
><strong>

**Anyways, keeping this short cause about pass out. Adios!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

><p>Another round, another toast, and Arthur and the knights were well on their way to a merry night as they left sobriety behind. The alcohol had long since brought warmth to his belly as a pleasant buzz enveloped the king. Their day was far more entertaining than before, once they abandoned their silly 'quest'. The village had long since shown its friendly attitude to the strangers, leaving the childless, barren village they had first set foot in a long forgotten memory. There was no time for fear and worry, only fun as Brie brought another round.<p>

Arthur couldn't even be irritated at Merlin for the blatant disobedience. How could he? The warlock rather large (perhaps _too_ large) heart would not allow the younger man to ignore the women pleas. Besides, he was _Emrys_. There was no way some woodland creatures could best him, though Arthur had been proven wrong in such occasion. But then that was what Gwaine was for. Those two could easily watch out for each other as well as bring those children home.

The laughter that bubbled up from his chest, a response to a hilarious anecdote from Percival's childhood, was interrupted by the sudden slamming of the inn's heavy set doors. Arthur spared a glare towards the glum intruder to the merriments, only to deepen his scowl when he identified the newcomer. That old, wretched man was already receiving several ugly looks as Erwan made straight for him. Jorran was likely here to ruin all their fun, though by the determined way Brie's husband walked towards him, Arthur knew he didn't need to spare any more thought. Instead he reached for his mug, drinking it dry as the conversation continued around him.

Angry shouts followed by a yelp erupted behind him, which the king ignored. Not his problem. At least it wasn't until an old, but strong hand latched onto his arm.

"Hey—" Arthur growled, ready to turn onto the hand's owner. It was one thing for Jorran's irritating presence to appear before the king, it was another matter entirely to actually make an attempt to interact with him. But he didn't have time to gripe as the elder swung his hand and smacked him in the back of his head.

"Wh-what?" the king muttered, holding his head as dizziness rushed down on him. Around him, he heard more yelling as well as struggling. The hand that once grabbed his arm disappeared as his knights stood up to his aid. However, something stopped them from helping, and the blurring figures of his knights being grabbed and pulled away was all Arthur can discern.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to care.

As he sat there, holding his head, trying to keep from expelling his stomach of its contents, Arthur was struck by the utter _wrongness_ of the day's events. The villagers. The children. Their attitudes.

All that swirled together, worrying, but not so much in light of a worse matter.

As Arthur was starting to get his bearings, one single thought motivating him to make his move, the mug he had drank from flew towards him, knocking him into the unconscious world.

His last thoughts was of Merlin, in the forest. Right where something wanted him to be.

* * *

><p>Lameka approached him, those predatory eyes gleaming with excitement as Merlin frantically began to call up more, powerful spells.<p>

"**Æsc ábíete ámundae mec!**" he shouted.

A loud sound of crackling announced the effects of the warlock's spell as a force stuck through the trunk of the tree next to him. It wobbled for a moment, trying to remain upright on the sliver that remained between its mass and roots before Merlin wrenched it completely free and threw it towards the child. For as large as it was, it flew fast, too fast for any normal person to stop. Unfortunately his opponent was anything but.

Again, his attack stopped, midair and quivering as Merlin's magic still fought to finish the spell's purpose. In spite of the power he poured into it, Lameka didn't even blink as she gave the tree a savage grin.

Fire erupted, swirling around the tree before converging onto it. It burned and consumed everything in its path, leaving behind nothing but ashes. Quick to cut off the enchantment, Merlin could only watch in horror as the fire whirled where the tree once was. Then it streamed straight for the monster child and into her too wide mouth.

"**Ic ábíet****—**" Merlin began to incant, determined to find at least one spell that worked.

However, he was interrupted when Lameka suddenly appeared before him. He had not even seen her move, nor was able to register her further movements as she grabbed ahold of his arm and slammed him into the ground. It knocked the breath from his lungs, his arm twinging in pain, as he rolled onto his back. Still, her incredible speed left him unprepared when she leaped atop of him and slammed her palm against her forehead.

Those inhuman eyes met his own blues as they turned blindingly bright. The palm grew warm against his skin as her power dug greedily for his magic. His magic rushed against the assault, forcing it back as foreign magic aided it. It took seconds for the warlock to recognize the third force being the protection of the ring. However, not matter how effective it had been in his defense, he could feel its power waning. It wasn't meant to be lasting protection.

"Don't hurt him!" shrieked a feminine voice.

In her fierce attack, Lameka had failed to notice when the knight had reached them, throwing her off the warlock as Lillian scampered by Merlin's side. Face streaming with fresh tears, the girl grabbed the man's arm in an attempt to tug him back onto his feet. Unlike the creature, she lacked the strength to move him more than a budge, but the warlock got the message. Struggling to his feet, Merlin latched onto Lillian's hand as his other hand reached for the knight.

"We need to leave, _now_!" the warlock snapped as he turned the knight's shoulders away from the inhuman child. In the time it took for him to stand, Gwaine had positioned himself between his friend and the creature, sword drawn.

Gwaine nodded, though he did not sheath his sword. Instead, he turned away and sprinted for the boy, who watched with terror a small distance away. Behind him, Merlin was close behind, slowed somewhat by the girl's inability to match the two older men's speed. Lillian kept her eyes to the ground, relying on the warlock to keep her from running into anything.

"Did I hear her sou—" Gwaine began, realization struck him as he shot a quick confused glance at the innkeeper's daughter.

"We can talk about it later," Merlin responded, also glancing at the girl when he felt her grip tighten in his hand, "_when_ we're not running for our lives."

After watching Gwaine grab Liam and throw him over his shoulders, Merlin took a moment to sweep Lillian into his own arms. Behind them, they heard a bestial shriek, announcing the creature's return to her hunt. Around them, the air warm and heavy, pressing down on them as they ran. Within seconds, they were sweating as the temperature grew uncomfortable.

Then Merlin felt it, the magic roaring towards them from behind. With a shout, his magic reacted instinctively as it shoved the knight and him apart with an explosive force. As Gwaine was thrown away from him, Merlin twisted and fell on his side, curling around the girl to shield her from the oncoming assault. Just in time too as a vortex of fire shot passed them, blasting the trees apart with a roar. He was uncomfortable close, feeling his exposed skin burn red from its proximity.

"Are you okay," Merlin panted as he looked down at the girl in his arms. His answer was a nod before she climbed out and onto his feet.

Back on his feet, he barely had time to examine the smoking remains of char black trees before he was met with another attack. Hoping the old man's ring would strengthen his spell enough to protect him and the girl, Merlin materialized a shield. The flames slammed into it, and the warlock watched hopelessly as it ate away the barrier like fire to paper. Merlin was quick to erect a second shield, but it was too late as he was hit with the full force.

He flew backwards, slamming into the trunk of the tree behind him before falling crumpled onto the ground. His skin stung, red from slight burns, but it seemed the ring's protection held enough to prevent the worst of it. However, he doubt the ring would hold much longer against the constant barrage, he could barely feel its diminishing power. At least he didn't need to worry about Lillian for the child remained unaffected by the creature' magic, still standing ahead of him from where he was attacked.

Merlin would have to think of something fast, something that would give him an advantage against the creature. Yet nothing came to mind even as Lameka emerged from the smoke strolling casually as embers blew around her. Her hair grew a life of its own, flickering about as fire would while sparks ignited about her head. Lilian remained frozen, eyes transfixed at the approaching threat. Just as the creature was about to pass her for the warlock behind, Lillian yelped and turned on her heels towards Merlin. She stretched out an arm, to grab him again so they may keep running.

"Do _not_ interfere!"

The inhuman child's command rang out, loud and full of power. Even from where he laid, Merlin could feel the magic behind her words as it effected the human child immediately. The little girl had stopped from her sprint, rocking forward on the balls of her feet as her body tried to remain balanced. Her face morphed into despair as her shoulders drooped in surrender. Not matter how much she tried, Lameka had spoken, and there was nothing she could do.

When she got closer, her hair began to flicker and diminish in its intensity. While the fire-like nature remained in a few strands as wisps, the rest of her hair returned to normal. Lemeka climbed on top of him, kneeling on his lap as amusement flickered in her eyes. Merlin raised a shaken arm, hands splayed as he mustered the strength to defend himself. With a scoff, Lameka easily batted the hand away and took ahold of his neck. Tilting her head to the side, her eyes narrowed onto him as she gripped tight enough to make breathing difficult.

"Damn you," she snarled.

Merlin choked at a laugh as he rasped, "Damn me? Funny, coming from someone who uses children."

She pulled back her arm and slammed his head against the tree.

"They are _mine_. My perfect children."

"And I assumed you made them perfect, besides their fears," Merlin growled back, ignoring the pain as he nodded his head to Lillian. "All to suite your needs."

"Serving me is an honor suited for few," Lameka grinned, flashing her too sharp teeth as her golden eyes began to brighten. "Their parents should be proud, especially for bringing such delicious prey,"

She placed her other palm against her forehead again. As before, heat emitted from her, burning a little hotter than before. Whatever she was attempting, it seemed the ring was still holding out. If he got out of this encounter alive, Merlin would have to thank Jorran.

"That damned old man. He's protecting you from the ritual," Lameka hissed, as she clenched her nails into his skin. Then she sighed, anger releasing in favor for glee "No matter, I will just have to wait until the wards dissipated. Your magic remains yours for now, I suppose, though some discouragement for future escape attempts are in order, hmm? Don't want too much of a fuss when I prepare you."

She stared at him, pondering her next move as the warlock began to struggle out of her grasp. In response, Lameka tightened her grip, slightly shaking the man until he was choking. Then her eyes widened in excitement,

"Oh I know! How about those lovely blue eyes," she murmured as she reached her other hand towards him, her finger tracing the skin beneath his lids. "Shame since they really are lovely, but you are powerful enough to beyond the nuisance of normal prey."

She eagerly pressed her hand against his face, obstructing his sight as they began to burn once more. Her hold on his neck loosened, though it didn't matter since Merlin could feel the heat grow to near unbearable levels. It wouldn't be long before it Lameka got what she wanted. Then suddenly it stopped, the hand dropping from his face though his skin still burned.

Opening his eyes, he saw Gwaine holding the girl against himself, using his bulk and arms to keep her pinned as her legs dangled in the air. Though it did not matter, for it took only a second for the girl to narrow her eyes in annoyance at the knight before she easily overpowered and threw him off. Landing back onto her feet, she strode back to the warlock, hand held with menacing potential as anger lined her once calm face. Close, she drew back her hand, ready to slam it into his face when another hand appeared at her shoulder, grabbing her to turn her away from the warlock.

"Enough of your foolish intervention, _human_."

"Please, Lameka, no more. Leave hi—" the plea was cut off by a scream when Lameka whipped her hand around and slammed it at the nearest target.

To Merlin's horror, it was not Gwaine but Silas who had stopped her.

And it was already too late.

Agony in the form of a scream ripped out of his throat as Silas took the brunt of the attack. As soon as it started, it was offer, with the boy crumpling into unconsciousness as the pain was too great for his body to handle.

Lameka stared at the limp body, and for the first time pure horror colored her face. She dropped to the ground, her hand reaching for the boy's destroyed eyes as she was unable to process what she had done. Her hand hesitated, scared of causing further damage as she began to choke out a sob with genuine remorse that would have surprised Merlin had he not been more concerned for Silas.

"_No…_ NO!" Lameka screamed before turning to the warlock, snarling. "This isn't over, Emrys. You will pay for maiming _my_ child. You. Will. Suffer."

Then her fist went flying, slamming hard against his face with the full force of her inhuman strength and knocking him out cold.

* * *

><p>"Release us," Arthur snarled, glaring at the many frightened, yet determined faces that surrounded them in the tavern.<p>

Carelessness, that was the only way he could describe the reason they reason they were stuck in this situation, pure carelessness. They knew that there was something strange going on in this village, they should have been on guard the moment they stepped foot in Assirith. Instead, they allowed some strange magic to enchant them and cloud their eyes from cruel intentions. By the time Arthur came back into awareness, he, the knights, and Jorran had been tied to chairs, ropes tightened as a circle of drawn swords surrounded them. Few of them seemed to have experience with the blade, while others could be heard whimpering and whispering in unease. Had Arthur and his knights been prepared, he was confident they could easily fight back, outnumbered as they were. But they were unprepared, and now they were trapped as Merlin and Gwaine were on their own in the forest, likely fighting for their lives.

"This is a bad idea," grumbled Erwan.

"What else are we supposed to do?" spat another villager, his sword wavering as he glared at the innkeeper.

"We can't just keep them here."

"We should just let them go."

"And allow more bloodshed. They go, their deaths are on our hands."

"Like all the others, why have mercy now?"

"Yeah, as long as we are safe, why care for the life of outsiders?"

"I just want my Peter back."

"He's fine, she won't hurt them."

"When will we release them, now or later?"

"What's to stop them from going to the forest?"

"Or they turn and attack us? This was foolish from the start."

"Enough!" Arthur roared, irate from the barrage as the villagers descended into an argument. His shout was quick to silence them, bring their attention back to the bound king as he glared at each one of them. "I believe now is the time for some explanation."

The villagers glanced at each other again, nervous eyes filled with uncertainty before Erwan spoke up, "The only thing you need to know is you must leave at sunrise."

"Why should I."

"Because we can't promise you the safety of your men here."

"Say do we do as told," Leon added, "we are still missing two of our own."

"The one who likes to drink a lot, he'll turn up before the sun's up, though no promises on how well he'll be," Brie shrugged, trying to take a nonchalance appearance even as she wrung her hands.

"And Merlin?" Percival asked, quiet but not unheard.

"The sorcerer? Forget about him," a villager muttered.

"How dare you—" the king began.

"He's dead. If not now, he will be," Erwan said, his gaze even.

"What have you _done_," Arthur snarled, flickering his eyes to Gilli. The moment one of his men got threatened, the moment Merlin was threatened, the king no longer cared to play nice.

Gilli gave him a small nod before focusing. None here had realize he was a sorcerer, as weak as he was with magic, so none knew to remove his father's ring. With it wrapped around his finger, he drew upon his power and concentrated on sending into the gem, feeling as the magic grew tenfold. When the energy had sufficiently grown to allow for his chosen incantation, Gilli released it.

"**Snæde ****þá ancorbendas!**" he commanded. He wasn't strong enough to release everyone, but he needn't worry.

The ropes around Arthur and him snapped, freeing them from the chair. They took little time too as Gilli pulled a dagger from his boot and turned to cut through Leon, Percival, and Jorran's bounds as Arthur drew his sword to level it against the villagers. A few yelped, others backed way while some stepped forward, wondering how they may stop the escape. Outnumbered yes, but it seemed they made the same assumptions as Arthur had. None of them wanted to approach and risk their lives.

"You had a sorcerer, oh gods, help us," a woman shrieked, collapsing to the ground as she held her head in her hands. "She's going to think we hid him—she-she, oh what are we going to do?"

"Let them go, to the forest," another man cried, his wide eyes stared, horrified, at Gilli before turning to Arthur. "Your men will be there, just leave us out of this. It's not in our place to interfere."

"Not until I get some answers first," the king growled.

"We don't have to fight," Leon added, his voice calm in a sea of anger and fear. "Tell us what we want and we'll be on our way."

"No, no," another cried from their left, "we can't get in her way anymore, she'll hurt the children!"

"She won't hurt them, they'll be fine."

"She'll make them into orphans, oh gods, she'll kill us!"

"We should bring her the sorcerer, she won't harm us if we do."

"This is not the way, we shouldn't interfere."

"We need to sto—"

"Let them go—"

"Calm down every—"

**Bang! Bang! Bang!**

The entrance shuddered from the force, freezing everyone in their place. By the looks of fear on the villagers face, Arthur had a moment to doubt whether he should be relieved for the interruption. However there was no time to think as someone continued to pound on the door accompanied by a hoarse shout demanding entrance. Whoever was on the other side couldn't enter due to the wooden beam slid into place across the door. When no one moved and Arthur recognized that voice, the king was quick to run to the door and remove the beam. Any who tried to stop him were kept back by his knights. Even the threat of Gilli's magic kept the rest in place. Dropping the wooden block, the king swung the door open with a grunt, revealing the thin frame of his Court Sorcerer.

To say he looked like hell was an understatement. Even with the dim light of the tavern, Arthur still noted the angry red that marked his flesh. The skin around his eyes suffered even worse burns, with a few blisters bubbling beneath his furious, cerulean eyes and across the bridge of his nose. A vicious bruise formed around his left temple, still fresh and beginning to turn mottle colors of blue and purple. His clothes were ragged from multiple tears and burnt edges, few cuts beneath shedding some blood. An arm slung across his shoulder as he supported a barely conscious Silas. The burns over his own eyes even more vicious than the one on Merlin, large blisters deforming the upper portion of his face as it swelled into grotesque mask. Behind his legs clung Lillian and another boy, tears marking their faces as they clutched desperately to Merlin's pants leg.

"Merlin!"

"Not now, Arthur. He's running a fever," Merlin said as he forced his way inside. "Someone clear the table, Gilli get my pack, you know which one."

As Gilli scrambled for the stairs, Merlin went straight to a table, villagers frantic to clear it as he laid the boy down, as gentle as he could. Other converged to help get Silas' lanky body straighten as a couple the warlock identified as his parents whimpered and watched. With wide eyes, they were glued to the body as if unable to comprehend that it was their son. Behind him, Lillian and Liam went straight to their parents, who checked them for injuries and found none with relief.

"W-what happened to him," the mother whimpered, clutching at Merlin's arm.

The father was quick to get in his face, grabbing Merlin's opposite shoulder as he snarled, "What did you do to my boy."

Arthur was quick to interfere, pulling the man off the warlock as Merlin answered back, his tone even though the king could still see the anxiety etched in his face, "I did nothing. Now stand aside, else you put his life endanger."

The man relented, his limbs going limp as he hung his head, "She said she wouldn't hurt them."

"I'm sorry," the warlock mumbled, watching for a second as a sob escaped the mother's lips as she forfeited her hold of the warlock to embrace her husband.

Then the warlock turned back to the boy, noticing the angry reds lines that spread out from the burned and bubbled flesh. The lines travelled down ward, jagged and branched on either side of his face. It sickened Merlin, showing the warlock that the creature's attack was more than fire but a poison that seemed to spread through the boy's body. Determined to stop it, Merlin pressed his hand over Silas' eyes, even as the boy whimpered.

His lips moved as he spoke incantation after incantation his voice too soft for anyone to hear as his eyes flickered between molten gold and deep blue.

Arthur watched as Merlin's spells reduced the magic and even heal most of the blisters, leaving behind shiny, taut red skin. Scars formed, giving the skin a warped look as finally the warlock released a sigh after incanting his last spell. Throughout the process, the boy's whimpers slowed.

"Where's Gilli," the warlock mumbled, his tired blue eyes searching in time to spot the other sorcerer striding back with the bag.

Taking the bag, Merlin was silent as he worked, grinding herbs and pulling out various vials. After combining several ingredients to mix into a goop, the warlock took the poultice and applied it to the boy's still closed eyes, eliciting a sigh of relief from his young patient. Then he gestured for Gilli to help him, having the knight hold up the boy as he wrapped bandages around his eyes.

Satisfied that he done the best he could, the warlock stepped back, allowing the parents to fall in and comfort the boy. While Silas hadn't completely woken, the warlock knew such comfort would be appreciated even in that state. Which left Merlin to turn around and stand before a room of people, many of which were villagers who stared at him in confusion, fear, concern, and even anger.

Before anyone could speak up, the warlock spoke, his tone even, "I suggest anyone who shouldn't be here to leave, this inn is closed."

"How dare you ord—" one of them began.

"No," Merlin interrupted, glaring though he didn't shout, "How dare _you_. How dare you threaten your king. Now, leave or else I make you. I'm too tired to play to your foolishness."

The man gaped, still considering lunging for the warlock, but one of the others steadied him with a hand and whisper. Grumbling, the man turned away and followed the rest out. All that was left in the room was the innkeepers, their daughter, Jorran, and Arthur and the knights as well as Silas and his parents for Merlin to deal with. Jorran watched them all quietly, choosing to remain silent to watch. When Silas' parents looked up at him, scared they were going to be kicked out, Merlin gave them a reassuring smile.

"Merlin, what happened," Arthur demanded, then added quickly as he noticed someone missing, "and where's Gwaine? I thought he was with you?"

With that Merlin groaned, gesturing as his magic summoned a chair for him to collapse in, "Gone to the damned creature they got hidden in the woods."

"What creature?"

"Not by our choice!"

Arthur glanced at Brie at her words, but was unable to question her further as the warlock continued.

"Answer me Brie," Merlin started, his blue eyes staring straight at the innkeeper, "when you first introduced me to your daughter, what was it that you said?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Brie muttered, shifting her weight as she shared a glance with her husband.

"Lillian," Merlin spoke gently to the little girl, who stood frozen next to her mother, "don't be afraid, but can you do me a favor?"

The girl looked around, nervous by all the attention directed to her. She nodded.

"What did your mother say," he asked, giving her a smile of encouragement. "It's okay to speak, I won't let anyone else get hurt."

Lillian bit her lip, tears swelling in her eyes as she gripped the fabric of her skirt. For a moment it seemed she was about to remain silent, until she choked out, "She said I have the loveliest voice."

The people of Assirith were silent, already used to the girl's voice. However the others, aside from Merlin, reacted with widen eyes. Until she spoke, they weren't sure on the importance of Merlin's question. Lillian was a five year old girl, too young for that voice. No, that voice sounded to be from a full grown woman, perfectly able to enunciate each words while lacking the high tones usually accompanied with a child. It sound simply too old to come from a child.

"Gwaine questioned it, just before she took him," Merlin whispered, staring down between his legs at the floor as he recalled the fresh memories.

"What happened," the king tried again, keeping his tone light as he noticed the warlock's clasped hands trembling. "What did you see?"

"Something that shouldn't have been released," Jorran said for the first time since. Gathering everyone's attention. "I suppose it's time of explanation, before Lameka comes to kill us all."

"Lameka?" Arthur asked with furrow brows.

"Shall I tell them form the start?" Brie asked, receiving a nod from both Jorran and Erwan.

"It started because of one foolish sorcerer," woman began, pulling up and chair as well to sit beside Merlin. She place her elbows on her knees as she held her head. "He came by with his tricks and magic, entertaining the children and brightening our day. Living is tough here, but we make do. Who are we to deny ourselves of the occasional entertainment? We even did well to warn him of Jorran, the hermit who hates anything considered sorcery. How I wished we did more to keep him away."

"Jorran isn't a threat to sorcerers, right?" Gilli asked as Jorran harrumphed.

"Nothing as simple as that, though I wish it were," Brie laughed, humorlessly while eliciting another annoyed huff. "No, he was searching for something, something he never understood. Apparently, he heard a rumor, or some myth, of a family guarding a great treasure. It was said that a creature of untold power resided in it, and those who released it would gain unimaginable power.

"So that night, he broke into Jorran's home, attacked and tied him up before he ransacked the place. When we woke up the next morning, we found him in the village square holding some amulet as he began laughing and telling tales of his powers. When we heard it came from Jorran, we laughed. Why would a sorcery hating hermit have something like that in his home, but we watched in amusement as the sorcerer began his show. Oh, if we had known what had happened we would have run him out the moment we saw him."

"So he release a creature?" Gilli asked, knowing the full potential artifacts of sorcery held; especially one that held a gem or crystal.

"Yes, and it was _awful_. W-we w-wa-watched as she turned on him an-and—"

"You don't have to go on," Merlin interrupted, watching as the woman began to shake from her memories. "She called herself Lameka."

"It's safe to assume she's a creature of magic then," Arthur said.

"Yes, and a dangerous one at that," Jorran added. "Her power's beyond imaginable."

Merlin shivered, remembering just how helpless he felt earlier that night, "I barely could stand my own against her, even after using that ring of yours. I can't even figure out the extent of her powers."

"Care to tell me what in Camelot's name happened?" Arthur growled.

"As long as you don't interrupt, prat," Merlin nodded, ignoring the king scowl.

"I had given up on reading the book at the time," the warlock continued, "I had some headache I couldn't concentrate around when they—" he gestured to the innkeepers "—came around asking for help. They told me their children were lost in the woods, and thinking nothing of it, I left with Silas to go find them. On the way out we ran into Gwaine and Gilli, and I ordered Gilli behind to explain to you what happened.

"Something was wrong, or at least I knew something was wrong. But whatever it was, I didn't realize it, or at least not fully. The only precaution I took against it was to make Silas wait outside the forest edge. We," Merlin paused, clenching his hand, "we found a path. I—Arthur, it smelled just like it did in Camelot, just like the times when your father burned them."

"Merlin…: Arthur began, but the warlock lifted his hand in a gesture to stop.

"No interrupting, remember?" Merlin smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. "Anyways, it was the smell that finally help me recognize the strange enchantment that had taken ahold of me. My magic fought it off with the help of Jorran's ring, but it was too late. We were already too deep into the forest and it wasn't as if I was ready to abandon the children.

"After we left the path, we found them with her. She looked like any other child. I tried attacking, but everything I threw at her was burned and eaten. We tried to run away, but I could only go so far against something as inhuman as she. She even had me pinned, ready to blind and imprison me cause she get passed the ring's protection to start some ritual. But Silas didn't wait as I told him, and he tried to stop her. That wound was supposed to be for me, but he got in her way. I ended up being knocked out and by the time I woke up she was gone and so was Gwaine."

"I don't get it," Erwan mumbled, watching as Brie combed her fingers through Lillian's hair, "she doesn't do anything to folks who don't have magic unless they get in her way."

"That's because she wants Emrys to suffer," Jorran said. "Not only was she unable to capture you for the ritual, but you caused her to injure one of her children. She took your friend to ensure you came back and likely torture him."

"What is this ritual exactly?" the warlock asked.

"The she consumes her victims. While she can feed off of people's enchantments, it's not enough to sustain her. When she captures sorcerers, she puts them through this ritual that serves to remove a person's magic. It's a cruel process that kills the victim."

"So what now?" Gilli asked after the moment of grim silence.

"We fight back," the warlock growled. "There's no way I'm going to leave Gwaine in her hands."

"But how? Your magic would just be eaten in the end. Going against her would be suicide," Arthur growled.

"Wait, you're a sorcerer," Gilli said as he turned to the old man. "You used a spell to take us out of the enchantment placed on us by the children and gave Merlin that ring."

"Yes, but my power's insignificant. What I used tonight were small spells capable of deflecting poorly controlled enchantments. The children brought those enchantments onto you, but unless you're in the forest and close to Lameka, it's not entirely strong. Most of its strength comes from when its victims are unaware of it. As for the ring, I transferred wards created from decades of built up enchantments from the past generations of my family that serve to protect the household. I can only transfer a sliver of that power, since it's rooted so deeply in my family's land."

"Then what can we do," Brie mumbled, holding her daughter close.

"I will stop her," Merlin said.

"But it's too dangerous," Arthur argued back. "If you died—"

"If I died, then I did my best to protect the kingdom. I will _always_ protect the kingdom," the warlock said as he stared at his king with determination.

"And if you do die," Erwan mumbled as he watched his wife comfort her daughter, "where would that leave all of us?"

None offered an answer.

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><p><strong>AN: I can't even remember the last time I had a fast update o,O Anyways, Happy Halloween folks (for those who celebrate)! Hope enjoyed this early update.<strong>

**Next update estimated around November 14, 2014.**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed so far!**

**As always, reviews and constructive criticisms are greatly appreciated!**


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